A Father's Sin
by Severitus
Summary: Secrets, prophecies, animagi, and the Serpent‘s Children--a dark secret is revealed that will change Harry and Snape’s lives forever. But will it be for good, or for evil?
1. the Glamourous Glamourie

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. are property of J. K. Rowling. I make no claim on them or their world, nor do I gain anything material by the writing of this fanfiction. I do, however, get enjoyment from writing it, and I don't think you can sue for that. ; )

**Special Thanks to**: Saffron, for beta reading this monster. Thank you!

--Latin translations at the end of the page

**A Father's Sin**

_by_ Severitus

**Chapter 1**---_The Glamorous Glamourie_

"Ah yes, more turning buttons into beetles and other such nonsense we'll probably never use," Ron grumbled as he, Harry, and Hermione waited for Transfiguration to begin. Professor McGonagall had not yet arrived, though most of the class was already seated and chattering impatiently.

"Unless you happen to _want_ a beetle," Harry muttered. Ron laughed shortly before leaning forward onto the dark wood of the table, casting a forlorn gaze toward McGonagall's vacant desk.

"Y'know, I _really_ don't like this class. I mean, Potions is without a doubt the worst, but at least I can do _some_ of the stuff in _there,_" Ron grumbled, jabbing angrily at the wand that lay on the desk in front of him. It moved an inch or two, before rolling back toward Ron and off the edge of the table, forcing him to grudgingly fetch it from the floor.

"That's just because you don't practice, Ron," said Hermione, casting him a pointed glare. "It's really quite simple once you get the hang of it."

Ron only grumbled something about a 'bloody genius' under his breath and crossed his arms. The subject was closed when the classroom doors burst open and a flustered McGonagall rushed into the room. Instantly the class grew quiet, all watching in curiosity as their teacher arrived late for the first time. McGonagall's cheeks were slightly flushed as she straightened the papers on her desk, finally clearing her throat when she found one in particular.

"I apologize for arriving late for your first day of class, children. I had some rather urgent business to attend to." She looked up and straightened her glasses, eyeing Ron, Hermione, and Harry with a particularly stern gaze. "Now, to the lesson. Class for the next few days is going to be a bit different than usual. We will be working with a form of illusion rather than actual transformation." At this statement, Ron began clapping silently under the table, and Harry had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his smile.

"We'll be working with Glamourie, an illusionary type of Transfiguration magic. In other words, the transfiguration doesn't actually occur, it only _appears_ to," she continued, and Ron's face fell to the table with a loud 'thump.' Hermione's face had lit up the instant she'd heard the word 'Glamourie,' and was now sitting erect in her chair, hanging on McGonagall's every word.

"I would like to do a demonstration before I begin today's lecture. Mr. Weasley, if you'd be kind enough to assist me please?" inquired McGonagall, and Ron instantly paled. His chair scraped back from the table and Harry and Hermione both watched with slight smiles as he trudged up to stand beside the Professor. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley. Now all I need you to do is stand there and be still, all right?" she said, removing her wand from her pocket.

"Yes, ma'am," Ron answered, staring rather helplessly at the floor. McGonagall raised her wand and touched it to the top of Ron's head.

"_Persona Veritas!"_ she intoned, and the class gasped as Ron's hair instantly turned a brilliant shade of green. Ron, however, appeared to be clueless. He was looking up and feeling his hair with his hands, but it was too short for him to actually see what she'd done.

"Now class," McGonagall continued. "As I've said before, Mr. Weasley's hair is _not_ actually green," (Ron gasped and gaped at McGonagall), "we merely _think_ it has changed. Think of it this way...imagine that whenever you're looking at someone, you're seeing them through a window. When Glamourie is in use, the window is changed, and to you it appears that the person has changed as well. However, on the other side of the glass, everything is exactly the same as before. Is that much understood?" she asked, while most of the class nodded, a few (mainly Neville Longbottom, who was currently gaping dumbly) were raising their hands with questions.

"Well, don't worry about it if you don't understand yet. We'll be discussing it for the next few days, and you'll be able to try a few spells of your own," she said, and the class shifted uneasily between dread and curiosity. After Ron's hair was returned to its usual brilliant shade of red, the rest of the class passed by in absolute boredom as McGonagall droned on about the history and significance of 'Glamourie.' Harry was one of the many that sorely wished she'd just teach them the spell and be done with it.

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Harry was bored. It was a Friday evening, only their second day of school, and he, Hermione, and Ron were stuck wasting it on Potions homework. Snape had been relentless, assigning more work in one day than any other teacher did in a month. It was supposedly to prepare them for their OWLs, but Harry doubted it. Knowing Snape, it was probably just a good excuse to deduct points for late homework. And so, here they were, in the library, determined not to give Snape the satisfaction.

Ron and Harry were seated at one of the library tables, a half-dozen books spread between them among scattered scrolls, ink jars, and parchments. Ron had nearly fallen asleep from boredom atop one mighty tome, and Harry was struggling against a similar fate. Hermione, however, was wide awake and perusing the nearby bookshelves for something useful.

"Have you found anything yet, Hermione?" Harry asked, yawning loudly. She gave him a disdainful look, then returned to running her finger along the row of musty spines.

"No, some of these books are out of order," she replied, grimacing as her finger traced several such ignorantly placed tomes. Hermione was struggling with mounting frustration when a tiny book caught her attention. It was small and blue, wedged suspiciously beneath two enormous books on famous alchemists. Curious, she pried it carefully off the shelf and turned it over in her hands, blowing the light sheen of dust from the cover. There was no visible writing on the outside, only a faded picture of a wolf and a lion battling a snake. The book creaked softly as she carefully opened it, and she immediately gasped in surprise.

"Hermione…!" Ron whined. "What's taking so long?" Hermione turned and walked back to the table, composing her face into an expression of frustration. She plopped down in the chair next to Harry and dropped the book onto the table, flipping open to a random page.

"It's no use. It would take forever to find the book in _that_ mess…honestly, you wouldn't think this place even _had_ a librarian with the way these books are organized…." she grumbled, then her expression changed to one of slight excitement as she glanced at the book in front of her. "I did find this, though. I think I'll check it out to read this weekend."

"What is it?" Harry asked, glancing up from his page of messy notes. He actually didn't mind the work very much. In all truth, he thought Potions was pretty interesting, and according to Hermione he would have been doing pretty well in class if Snape didn't have such a bias. Snape was the reason Harry hated Potions class…and no matter how interesting the potion, that simple fact would remain.

"I'm not sure…it looks like a book of old prophecies of some sort. Let me see…." she replied, then began flipping through the pages. "They appear to be organized by year…Hey, here's one for this year. It mentions a unification….and something called the 'Serpent's Children,' rising up from shadow…." Hermione furrowed her brows in thought and read some more, leaving her companions to stare at her in curiosity.

"Well? What does it mean?" Ron asked, and Hermione looked up guiltily.

"I don't know. I've always heard that prophecies were never that reliable…and they're _always_ cryptic."

"You mentioned a serpent, right? What if it has something to do with Voldemort?" Harry asked, his quill lying forgotten atop half-finished notes. Ron flinched at the name, but Hermione merely shrugged.

"It could be, but we can't be sure. Either way, I think I'll hang on to this book for a bit, just in case," she said, then shifted the book aside in favour of the larger tome beneath it. "Now…since we seem to be off the subject of homework anyway, how have you two been doing with the _you-know-what_?" Hermione said, tapping her finger against the book in front of her. Harry and Ron were all too familiar with the book; they'd each spent the past summer practicing some of the techniques within it. Hermione had discovered it just prior to the end of the previous school year, and it had instantly launched them into their newest venture into the realm of (sort of) forbidden magic. They'd decided to become Animagi.

"Um…all right, I guess. It's hard to tell since we weren't really allowed to do anything but the mental part away from school," Ron said, shrugging his shoulders dejectedly. His eyes were wide open and interested now and all vestiges of boredom had disappeared at the first mention of Animagi. Harry adjusted his glasses slightly and rolled up the parchment in front of him before replying.

"Same here, we'd have to try it out to know for sure. Does the book say how we're supposed to tell if we're making progress?" Harry asked, and Hermione nodded.

"I think I've been doing well with the concentration part too, but as you said, we'll have to try it out. The book says that we should first be able to achieve some sort of partial transformation, like a hand or a patch of skin…something like that. If we can't manage that, it means we need to work on the concentration more before proceeding, otherwise it'd be too dangerous. Do you two want to meet in the common room tonight and try it out?" she asked, though it was more of a command than a question.

"Sure, then we can see if we sprout fur or feathers!" Ron said, now wide awake with excitement.

"I bet you're a bird, featherbrain," Hermione muttered, and Harry shook his head in dismay at the two.

"Why don't we finish this tomorrow? That way we can get concentrate on Animagi tonight and finish our homework in the morning," Harry suggested, already beginning to pack away his scrolls and books.

"All right, let's go…it's nearly dinner anyway," Hermione said, and Ron couldn't help but grin widely as they packed away their books.

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The halls were quiet and empty as they headed back from dinner toward Gryffindor Tower, and the trio's footsteps echoed loudly through the vacant hallway. All three were brimming in vibrant anticipation for the night ahead, as they had waited an entire summer to see the results of their silent efforts. After Hermione had discovered the book, it had been Harry's idea that they study to become Animagi; It was partially because of his father, and partially because it could prove an advantage to them if Voldemort decided to attack (or Filch caught them in the halls at night). After the easy escape Peter Pettigrew had made, it seemed like something worthy of learning.

"Do you hear something?" Harry asked suddenly, and they stopped, listening intently. Sure enough, muffled voices were drifting from a nearby classroom, the tone animated and angry.

"It sounds like something's going on…" Ron whispered, and the three drifted closer to the wall, listening quietly. They instantly recognized Dumbledore's voice drifting through the thin, wooden door. After a moment, Snape's voice replied to it, and a moment later a third, vaguely familiar voice joined in.

"I warned you that this would happen!" Snape yelled angrily, and Harry could nearly see the man crossing his arms and throwing someone a deadly glare.

"Yes, and who would I be to believe _your_ word, Professor Snape? Especially considering your rather _shady_ past?" the other voice said, and recognition instantly dawned on Harry. The last time he'd heard that voice had been in the hospital wing, after the death of Cedric Diggory. It was Cornelius Fudge.

"You'd do well to take my words seriously, Fudge--if you had listened to me before, they'd all be dead now! But you _foolishly_ chose to believe your Aurors had killed them all---" Snape hissed, and the sound of a chair scooting backward sounded from the room.

"Calm down, Severus," Dumbledore's voice sounded, "it was good of him to warn us of their rising at all. The remaining Serpent's Children will no doubt be joining their master before long, and we can only dread that inevitable occurrence." The three Gryffindors pulled away from the wall, gaping at each other in silence.

"That's what the book said…" Harry whispered, and Hermione nodded glumly, casting an unconscious look toward the book bag at her side. "Let's get back to the common room…." he added, and the three dashed quickly toward the tower, all slightly ashen-faced from their discovery. When they arrived in the common room, they fled to a vacant corner and Hermione immediately tore the book from her bag.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" Ron asked, staring at the book with a vaguely fearful expression on his face.

"What's that?" Harry asked, as Hermione busied herself searching for the correct page.

"That we're getting mixed up in another battle between good and evil, which will probably mean that either one or all of us will end up in the hospital wing," Ron said, and Harry scratched the back of his neck nervously, casting a glance over at Hermione was tracing her finger down a familiar page of the book.

"I found it…" she said, and the two boys watched her expectantly, "Basically it says that the Serpent's Children will rise and rejoin their master. Then it says something about their 'lost' brother being found, and about a Wolf joining with a Lion to fight the Serpent. It doesn't say who wins, though." Hermione looked disappointed as she passed the book over to the two boys. Harry looked at it for a moment and then leaned back, sighing and rubbing his temple.

"You're right, Hermione. This stuff _is_ cryptic," Harry said, leaning his elbow against the arm of his chair.

"What's all this about wolves and lions? I don't get it," Ron muttered, jabbing his finger angrily at the offending line of text.

"I don't _know_, Ron. It could be literal, or it could be something completely different. For all I know, the wolf could be Remus Lupin," Hermione said, and slammed the book shut loud enough to draw looks from the other occupants of the room. She glanced around guiltily before turning back to her friends.

"Although, it would be a pretty fair guess to assume that this 'master' is Voldemort," Harry said, his gaze stern and vaguely unnerving as he stared at the tiny book. Hermione shifted nervously, something about Harry's gaze had always made her stomach churn in unease, especially when it was as concentrated as it was now.

"How many times do I have to ask you not to say that name?!" Ron fumed, his hands attached firmly to his hips. Harry's gaze instantly transformed into an apologetic one, and he slumped back in his chair, casting and idle glance toward the dwindling number of people in the room.

"Sorry, Ron. Are we still on for you-know-what, tonight?" Harry asked, and both his companions nodded vigorously. It would be another hour at least before they had the room to themselves, but it would be more than worth the wait.

----------------

The hour passed by quickly, with the last few Gryffindors fleeing upstairs sometime near ten o'clock. Harry, Ron, and Hermione gathered in front of the low-burning fireplace the instant the coast was clear, and sat down in the crimson armchairs, facing each other anxiously. Hermione laid the open Animagus book on the table between them, flipping to a certain yellowed page near the front of the book.

"So…what now?" Harry asked, sitting slumped tiredly between the cushions of his chair, though his eyes were bright and alert.

"We do what we've been doing all summer, while mentally focusing on the words '_verto fera_.' It says we should feel a sort of tingling sensation, though only fairly weak at this stage. We stop when something physically happens, and then focus on the words '_verto humanis' _to return to normal," Hermione said, her finger tracing over the instructions in the book. Ron gaped at her in confusion, but Harry only nodded.

"What words were those again?" Ron asked, scratching the back of his head. Hermione looked irritated, but she repeated them again.

"First, '_Verto Fera_,' and then '_Verto Humanis_.' Got it?" she asked, and Ron nodded, though his expression proved that he indeed hadn't.

"All right, here goes," Harry said, and all at once the three closed their eyes and concentrated. Completely clearing his mind had once been the hardest thing Harry had ever attempted to do in his life. Every time he'd tried at first over the summer, errant thoughts had intruded and broken his concentration. However, after an entire summer of sitting silently in the dark, practicing for hours on end, he was fairly certain that he was pretty good at it now. He also liked to think that it was partially due to his father, too.

Once his mind was completely blank and void, he focused on the words: _Verto Fera_. He envisioned them written in scrolling letters across the inside of his eyelids, imagined he heard them breathed into his ear, and thought of nothing but those two, magical words. After perhaps about a minute, something began to happen. At first, it was only a mild tingling in his right hand and up his arm, but then the odd sensation of shifting flesh and bone accompanied it soon after. It ceased before the feeling passed his elbow, and Harry quickly snapped open his eyes and stared at what had once been his hand. Across from him, Ron and Hermione still had their eyes tightly shut.

His hand was no longer a hand. Harry inspected it curiously, mentally smashing down the slight sensation of fear that rose at the sight of the alien limb reacting to his commands. The hand had transformed into a large paw, coated with thick, black fur up to his elbow. Sharp, white claws shone in the firelight, and Harry dared to touch the soft pads beneath the fingers (or were they toes?). The fur was surprisingly soft, and Harry found himself wondering what he'd turn into if he ever completely mastered becoming an Animagus.

"Harry!" Hermione said in surprise, and he looked up to see her smiling at him in excitement, staring at the paw with keen interest. "You did it!" she squealed. Harry wondered briefly if she'd expected him to fail completely.

"Looks like you did, too, Hermione," he said, sighting the light brown fur that coated the backs of her hands. She smiled briefly, turning her hands over in the firelight.

"Did what?" Ron asked, finally opening his eyes. Hermione instantly grinned at him, and Harry smiled lightly at his friend's surprise. Ron's eyes were now golden in colour. "What is it? I think I failed," Ron said, staring at his own completely human hands.

"Ron, you did it too! Your eyes are amber!" Hermione explained, and Ron's frown instantly transformed into an excited smile.

"Really? I did it? Wicked!" he exclaimed, and then caught sight of the paw Harry had rested on the arm of his chair. "Wow, Harry…you _really_ did it," he said, and Harry shrugged, flexing his transformed fingers slightly. It was a really strange sensation.

"All right, let's see if we can change back now. It should be no trouble," Hermione said, and again the three closed their eyes. Harry repeated the same scenario as before, though envisioning the words '_Verto Humanis' _instead of the former. Again the tingling sensation came, followed by that slightly nauseating sensation of retracting fur and shifting bone. Harry sincerely hoped that the feeling would disappear with practice. He opened his eyes when the sensation stopped, silently glad to be staring at his own pale, long-fingered hand yet again.

"Whoa…that feels really weird," Ron said, blinking his now human-coloured eyes. Hermione nodded, absently massaging the backs of her hands.

"Wait till muscles and bones start moving around," Harry said, grimacing slightly. Ron frowned, his mouth twisted in a way that suggested that was the one aspect of it he was not looking forward too.

"Don't worry, the book says the sensation lessens with practice. Once we've done it enough, we won't even have to clear our minds in order to transform. We'll be able to do it instantly, just like Sirius," Hermione said, smiling as she once again traced her finger over text in the book.

"So how do we improve?" Harry asked, and Hermione's face went blank as she traced more text, her eyes flicking silently back and forth.

"We practice the same as we have been, doing what we did tonight as much as possible. The only difference is that instead of focusing purely on the words, we have to envision the transformation as it's happened so far. You, Harry, would imagine your hand becoming a paw. I would concentrate on the fur on the backs of my hands, and Ron would imagine his eyes becoming amber. As we get better, we'll transform more fully, and must add to what we envision happening each time," she said, nodding to herself in satisfaction.

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad," Ron said, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"Let's meet here every night that we can to practice," Harry said, and the other two nodded. Hermione picked up her book and shut it with a plume of dust. She yawned loudly, and then Ron yawned too, casting an accusing glare at Hermione. "Maybe we should go to bed. I'll see you too in the morning, all right?" Harry said, and the two looked at him thankfully.

"Sounds good…I'm exhausted suddenly. Maybe this Animagus stuff takes more out of us than we think," Ron said, and Harry thought he was probably right. Hermione then said goodnight to them both and headed off to her dormitory, leaving Harry and Ron to venture up the stairs to their own room. They both changed quickly into their pyjamas, but only Ron went to bed, falling to sleep the instant his head hit the pillow. Harry--who had something else in mind--instead ventured to the trunk at the end of his bed.

He opened it silently, reaching a hand into the dark contents to retrieve the revered object Hagrid had given him for his most recent birthday. Once his fingers closed on it, he gripped it firmly and removed it from the trunk before closing the lid. He carried it back to his bed and set it on the bedside table before sitting down on his bed. It was a figurine, a Muggle one that didn't dance around like the many that decorated Dumbledore's office. It was a lily made of crystal, and once upon a time it had belonged to his mother. Hagrid had said he'd found it on a shelf next to Harry's crib the night he delivered him to the Dursley's, and had kept it to give to him one day. Harry had never treasured anything so much in his life, aside from his father's Invisibility Cloak. It was his only memento of his mother, just as the cloak was of his father. However, there was one subtle difference between the two that made him revere the lily just a tiny bit more. Reaching a hand out toward the object, he stroked a leaf briefly, and closed his eyes as the familiar sensation washed over him. Then he saw her, in his mind.

Every time he did it, it was different; new sensations and memories of his mother's. This time, it was of her wandering through the Potter home, pausing to run her hands along a bookshelf, smiling as her fingers traced the assortment of titles. Then, it was her sitting next to his father on a park bench on a bright summer evening, a stroller sitting next to them. Harry smiled at the memory, allowing his fingers to wander over one of the lily's petals. A different memory surfaced then, one that made Harry frown in confusion. It began in a different house, with an image of his mother and father saying goodbye in a front doorway. Briefly, Harry saw the name 'Evans' carved on the door front. It appeared to be a memory from before they were living together, though apparently not by much as they still looked the same as before. The door closed, and his mother wandered further into the house. She paused by a high-backed chair to inspect the lacy white wedding gown that hung across its back, a pleasured smile crossing her lips. Then something happened that caused Harry to jerk in surprise. A pair of black-robed figures dashed toward her from a dark doorway, the silver masks on their faces reflecting the bright candlelight. His mother didn't even have a chance to scream before they had her, one grabbing her about the throat and the other casting a spell to immobilize her. Her eyes were wide and terrified in the last moment that Harry saw her, for then the three simply disappeared, and Harry jerked away from the figurine with a gasp.

They had been Death Eaters, Harry was sure of it. And they'd kidnapped his mother- far before the incident that took her life. Harry had never heard anyone mentioning anything of the sort. Apparently she'd been rescued, since she'd married his father afterward. But what had happened? Did she escape? Did Dumbledore or an Auror rescue her? Harry sank back on his bed in confusion, drawing up the covers as he turned to stare at the crystal flower. To Harry, it seemed as if every answer brought nothing but more questions, and every small victory nothing but greater battles.

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Translations: (_not_ in proper Latin, of course)

persona veritas disguise truth

Verto Feratransform animal

verto humanistransform human

----------End Chapter 1-----


	2. Revelo and the Fire Rose

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. are property of J. K. Rowling. I make no claim on them or their world, nor do I gain anything material by the writing of this fanfiction. I do, however, get enjoyment from writing it, and I don't think you can sue for that. ; )

**Special Thanks to**: Saffron, for beta reading this monster. Thank you!

**A Father's Sin**

_by_Severitus

CHAPTER 2--**_Revelo and the Fire Rose_**

"Very well class, settle down now, settle down," McGonagall said on Monday morning, clapping her hands firmly before the class. The din of noise slowly faded away, dulling to nothing but the occasional rustling of an energetic student or the flipping pages of a book. McGonagall laced her fingers together at her waist and looked slowly about the classroom, her spectacles twinkling in the midday light. She cleared her throat slightly and stood up taller, lifting her chin up in that peculiar manner that suggested she was about to begin.

"Although I told you that we would begin practicing Glamourie today, there has been a slight change of plans," she began, and almost the entire class groaned in protest. "At the request of Headmaster Dumbledore, I will first be showing you how to see through a Glamourie spell. Usually this sort of thing would be taught in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but due to…troubles…that have arisen with that particular class, we will be covering it in here instead. Glamourie is not detectable by any means magical or not, therefore the only way to discover it is to allow yourself to see _through_ it. The spell for this only has temporary effects, but in the history of magic it has proven a most useful tool against dark wizards attempting to conceal themselves in that fashion," she said, then went as if to demonstrate something or other, but the doors to the classroom opened suddenly to reveal Headmaster Dumbledore himself. For a moment the class looked utterly confused, glancing about at one another nervously.

"I apologize, Professor McGonagall, but may I borrow our Mr. Potter for a while?" Dumbledore asked from his place in the doorway.

McGonagall looked a bit surprised, and she took a moment before replying nervously. "Yes, of course, Headmaster. Is something the matter?" she asked, her eyes wide with worry as she cast a glance at her thoroughly surprised student.

"No, everything is quite all right, I assure you," he said, giving her a convincing smile. She calmed down then, straightening the front of her robes as Harry collected his books and rose from his seat, casting a confused glance to his friends. He followed the headmaster out into the hall, struggling to stuff the stubborn Transfiguration book into his bag. Once the door had closed, Dumbledore turned to him and waited patiently.

"What is it, Headmaster?" Harry asked after a moment, having successfully slung the bag across his shoulder. The old wizard shook his head slightly and adjusted his glasses, motioning down the hall with one hand.

"Please come with me Harry--don't worry though, you aren't in any trouble," he said, and Harry nodded solemnly, following the man down the hall. Harry's mind reeled in confusion as they walked, up stairs and down several hallways. It was only the third day of classes and the headmaster had already fetched him. Something was certainly up, though he usually had a fair warning of what. They finally stopped before the stone gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office, and with the whispered password, they soon passed beyond that. When they reached the office, Dumbledore motioned for Harry to sit while he took his own seat behind the desk, pausing briefly to stroke Fawkes on his perch. Shifting nervously, Harry watched and waited, conscious of the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

"Harry, I don't mean to make you nervous by calling you up here so soon into the school year, but I feel I must give you warning. I understand you stumbled across a certain bit of information regarding the mythical 'Serpent's Children'?" Dumbledore said, and Harry paled in surprise. He'd always known that Dumbledore had an uncanny sense of what went on inside the school, but never to such an extent. After all, they'd only found the book Friday, had ignored it all weekend, and not another soul had been around at the time.

"Yes, sir. A prophecy, I think," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck in unease. Dumbledore nodded, leaning his hands forward on the desk.

"I appreciate your honesty, Harry. However, I must ask you not to pursue the subject. This is a matter that the Ministry of Magic is currently investigating, and I will not have you risking yourself if it can be helped. If we are right in believing that it is indeed the Serpent's Children, then things could become extremely dangerous. Do you understand, Harry?" Dumbledore said, fixing his piercing, blue gaze upon his cringing student. Harry shrunk back in his chair, startled by the seriousness of Dumbledore's attitude as well as the tone of the statement.

"I understand, sir. I'll leave it alone," Harry said with all the resolve he could muster. Dumbledore smiled and nodded, leaning back in his chair once again.

"Thank you, Harry. You may keep the book though, if you wish. It belonged to your mother, you know. She was very fond of prophecies, I believe…" Dumbledore said with a smile, and Harry gaped slightly.

"My mother's book? But…what's it doing in the library?"

"She brought it to me after she married your father. I believe she said something about no longer needing the dreams of others now that she had her own. I put it in the library afterward, I'm surprised anyone was able to find it in that mess." Dumbledore chuckled, and Harry smiled, remembering Hermione's own similar opinion of the library.

"Hermione found it," he said, and Dumbledore smiled again.

"Not surprising. Oh, and that reminds me…you all _are_ going to register once you become Animagi, aren't you?" Dumbledore said with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Harry opened and closed his mouth several times before closing it again and swallowing loudly.

"Of--of course, sir," he said, and Dumbledore laughed, adjusting his glasses with one wrinkled hand.

"Very good, Harry. I do hope I never hear otherwise. Now, I believe you have Potions next, am I right?" he said, and Harry nodded, groaning slightly.

"Come now, are you and Severus still at each other's throats? I would have thought four years would have brought at least some peace between you two," Dumbledore said, and Harry only stared at his feet, dreading whatever insults would fly his way from that infamous teacher today.

"He hates me," Harry muttered, and Dumbledore only shook his head, making a 'tsk tsk' sound in his throat.

"He doesn't hate you Harry, sooner or later you'll understand. Now you better get along, I believe you have some Transfiguration homework to get from Miss Granger as well."

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Hermione couldn't wait to try out the new spell the instant Transfiguration let out. Once everyone had gathered their books and fled into the hallway, she dropped her books near the wall opposite the classroom and brandished her wand with a grin.

"Hermione, don't tell me you're trying that spell already?" Ron complained, allowing his own bag to slide to the floor. "You know, you probably won't see a thing," he muttered, but Hermione ignored him, adjusting the position of the wand in front of her.

"We have time between classes, and besides, Professor McGonagall encouraged us to practice this one," she said, then pointed the tip of her wand between her eyes and said firmly, _"Revelo Veritas!" _

Hermione blinked away the brief flash of light, and then looked around the hall, searching for anything odd or unusual. At first she didn't see a thing, and Ron was giving her the look that clearly said 'told ya so!' but then Draco Malfoy happened to walk by, and she nearly doubled over in laughter. He ignored them as he breezed past with his eternal bodyguards, but she'd seen something that would surely ruin his reputation if it ever got out.

"Ron, you won't believe what I just saw!" she said quietly, bouncing on her heels. Ron raised an eyebrow and looked past her at the retreating Slytherins, then back to her again.

"What?" he said, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Malfoy's been using Glamourie…to hide the huge wart on his nose!" she said, and Ron instantly broke out in a fit of wild laughter. Many a student cast them an odd glare as they passed by, but it all went unnoticed. It took Ron a good five minutes to completely regain control and by the time he had, Hermione was glaring at him and tapping her foot impatiently, but smiled when he grinned sheepishly in return. Hermione glanced up when she saw a dark figure approaching out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh, hey Harry! What did Dumbledore want?" Ron said as he turned around.

"He just warned me to stay out of the 'Serpent's Children' business, and wanted to make sure we'd all register ourselves when we master the you-know-what," Harry replied. Then he turned to Hermione and raised an eyebrow, concern knitting his features. She was gaping at him like a fish, her jaw opening and closing without a sound. "Hermione, are you all right?" he asked, and she snapped her mouth shut, shaking her shoulders quickly and attempting to act normally.

"No, no, I'm quite all right. And we _are_ registering, just in case you two were getting any ideas," she said, doing her best to scold them. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Of course we will. Just not right away…" Harry said, and Hermione nodded grudgingly, still staring at him strangely. Harry frowned and crossed his arms. "Hermione, what's wrong? You've been staring at me like I've got a live dragon on my head," he said, and Hermione jumped in surprise. She quickly shook her head and waved her hands in front of her, saying:

"Nothing! Nothing is wrong! I'm just a little out of it at the moment, I think I might have cast that new spell wrong…I was trying it out while you were gone," she said, and Harry relaxed slightly, though obviously not completely buying the story.

"Yeah, she saw a wart on Malfoy's nose! He's been hiding it with Glamourie!" Ron said, and Harry stared at him briefly before breaking out in a fit of his own laughter. Picking up her bag, Hermione turned away and started toward the next class, shaking her head in a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

------------------

Potions class was met with the usual chorus of groans and nervous shaking, with almost the entire Gryffindor half of the classroom constantly shifting in unease as they waited for class to begin. Only the Slytherins seemed particularly calm, though many of them also were slightly more anxious than was normal. Though it was indeed a fact that Snape always favored his own House, it was no mystery that the majority of Slytherins were at least somewhat terrified of him as well. Harry believed that Snape should have been teaching 'Intimidation 101' rather than Potions, for he was indeed a master of the subject.

The classroom doors made their traditional 'boom' as they were flung open the very second class was scheduled to begin as, sweeping through them in a flurry of black robes, the Potions master himself entered, a leather case of some sort clutched tightly in one hand. Many of the students stared more fearfully at the case than the Potions master, for he'd never carried anything of the sort before. The mysterious case was set gently on the desk in the front of the classroom, where Snape proceeded to pop the latch and spin it around so that the contents were clearly visible. He leaned idly against the side of the desk and glared about the classroom, looking the entire world as if he'd never been more bored in his life.

"I'll not bother to repeat what my expectations of you all are this year, as even the most moronic of your number should be able to remember _that_ much after four years. Therefore, we shall be starting your lessons immediately," he said, then turned and carefully lifted a thin jar from the open case, which was filled with dozens of its like. Inside was an odd looking plant, with orange leaves and tiny blue spots across it. It was also moving of its own accord, twitching this way and that against the other stalks in the jar.

"Today's lesson shall be a bit different, and you, Longbottom, will be pleased to know that I do not expect the potion we'll be making today to actually work. It's far too advanced for the lot of you, but the curriculum requires that I teach you about the ingredients. As stupid and pointless as it is to teach you about something you're not skilled enough to actually use, I'm going to do it anyway," he said, and sneered evilly at the last. Harry imagined that Snape was only doing it in order to laugh at their failure. "In this jar is a fairly rare plant known as the 'Fire Rose.' It is quite dangerous to work with, as it has a tendency to ignite anything flammable that touches it. Therefore, I expect you all to pay PERFECT attention, unless you want to run off crying to Madam Pomfrey with third degree burns up your arms," he said, and Harry could nearly hear Neville sliding down in his chair at the last, most likely clutching his arms in terror.

Snape continued on, scribbling the list of ingredient on the board for the 'Eternal Flame' potion, which was supposed to make any candle or torch dipped in it burn forever. Everyone collected the necessary ingredients from the cupboard while Snape passed a jar to each student along with a pair of tongs for handling the Fire Rose. After the class was seated once again, he wrote out the order of ingredients on the board and explained a few points of importance, stressing the fact that the Belladonna could _not_ touch the Fire Rose unless they wanted the entire table in flames. The potions were actually supposed to turn a bright crimson color if done correctly, but Snape continually stressed that no one would be able to do it correctly, and instructed them merely to pay attention to the effect each ingredient had upon the mixture, as they'd have a paper to write on it for homework. Everyone began cautiously, doing their best to follow the instructions word for word, and all taking extra pains to keep their ingredients separated.

The first explosion came from Neville's cauldron, predictably. It wasn't terribly large, and thankfully only his cauldron was in flames, but Snape took the pleasure of deducting ten points nonetheless. Hermione finished her potion early, which was now an odd orange color. She busied herself scribbling notes on a parchment, and Harry stared at his remaining ingredients, tapping his fingers on the table in thought. His potion was progressing slightly slower than the rest, as he'd been watching everyone else to see if he could figure out why no one was getting it right. An idea struck him just as Ron's cauldron burped a huge lick of flame, and he instantly dived back at the ingredients. It was the wolfsbane, each time it was added, someone's potion would flare crimson briefly before dying down to orange or some other color. Harry knew what to do, he wasn't quite sure _how_ he knew, but it struck him like a bolt from above. After carefully adding the other ingredients, he quickly ground up the wolfsbane and began stirring his potion in earnest, adding a pinch of the wolfsbane with each rotation. Slowly, his blue potion began to lighten in color, until finally it had turned a brilliant, lasting crimson. Harry leaned back and smiled slightly; he had gotten it right!

Hermione was gaping at him, looking in shock from her own potion to his. Then she shook her head and smiled brightly.

"You did it, Harry!" she whispered, and he shrugged.

Ron gave him a friendly whack on the back and said: "Way to show Snape, Harry!" and then returned to inspecting and taking notes on his own still smoking mixture. Harry was in the process of dragging a quill and parchment from his own bag when the toe of a boot settling in his line of vision. He sat up slowly, unsure what to expect from his teacher, he certainly didn't look happy though.

"Well, Potter, I must say I _never_ expected _you_ to get it right," Snape sneered, and Harry remained quiet, terrified to say anything lest it was twisted the wrong way. Snape continued, "I never took you for a cheater, but there appears to be no other explanation…" he drawled, his lips curling in a smirk. Harry jerked in his seat, unable to repress an angry glare.

"I didn't cheat, Professor…" Harry began, but Snape leaned closer and silenced him with a loud command.

"SILENCE! I expect _your_ paper to be at least three feet long, and I also expect to see you for detention this evening. Is that clear, Potter?" Snape hissed, and Harry bit back on his own anger.

"Yes, Professor," he said, his tone strained. Snape sneered and walked away, heading off to insult Neville or some other poor, unsuspecting Gryffindor. Harry spent the rest of class scribbling notes and grumbling under his breath, accidentally botching his notes in his anger and frustration. Once ingredients were stored away and class was dismissed, Harry stalked out of the classroom with his bag slung haphazardly slung across his shoulder. Ron and Hermione finally caught up with him at the end of the hall, each gasping for breath.

"Harry, wait up!" Ron gasped, and Harry finally stopped, hands fisted at his sides.

"Don't take it so hard, Harry, Snape is always on our cases. He knows you didn't really cheat," Hermione said, but Harry only kept glaring at the floor, reminding her somewhat of the certain teacher that had been its cause.

"I _know_ he's always on our case….It's just that…this is the first time I actually manage to do something unarguably _right_ in that class, and he accuses me of _cheating!_ And gives me detention!" Harry fumed, and then took a moment to calm himself, straightening the bag at his shoulder. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't be so angry about it, it is _Snape_ after all, the one person who may just hate me more than You-Know-Who."

"Don't worry about it Harry, just don't let him get to you during detention and maybe he'll lose interest in insulting you sooner or later," Ron suggested, and Harry and Hermione each gave him a look.

"Yes, then the skies will turn to fire and Snuffles will be proclaimed a national hero," Harry muttered darkly, and then turned to start back down the hall. Yes indeed, Snape growing tired of his favorite victim? Hardly. Harry was fairly certain he'd see the end of the world before _that_ ever happened.

------------End Chapter 3----

My bad Latin:

_Revelo Veritas..._reveal truth


	3. Looking Through It

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. are property of J. K. Rowling. I make no claim on them or their world, nor do I gain anything material by the writing of this fanfiction. I do, however, get enjoyment from writing it, and I don't think you can sue for that. ; )

**Special Thanks to**: Saffron, for beta reading this monster. Thank you!

**A Father's Sin**

_by_ Severitus

CHAPTER 3 -- **_Looking Through it_**

Dinnertime came and went, and before he knew it Harry found himself trudging down a dungeon hallway with prospects of pain and torture in his future. The heavy oaken doors that led to Snape's classroom soon loomed, dark and forbidding, in front of him, and he glared at them bitterly. Detention he hadn't even earned—again. And probably again and again after that, until Snape tired of his sick joy (hah!) or Harry graduated beyond his grasp. Squaring his shoulders and blanking his expression, Harry creaked open the door and stepped in quietly, shutting it gently behind him. Snape was seated behind the desk at the front of the room, his feet propped on its surface as he reclined back in his chair, eyes scanning the pages of an old, yellowed tome.

"Come here, Potter," Snape commanded, not even lifting his eyes from the open book. Harry obeyed immediately, walking swiftly up to stand before the desk, swallowing the nervous lump in his throat. No matter how angry he could get at Snape that anger always turned to fear when he was in the man's actual presence. After a few minutes, Snape finally closed the book and set it aside, swinging his legs down under the desk.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind telling me HOW exactly you managed that potion today?" he said, his black gaze locked onto Harry's startled green-eyed one. Harry swallowed again and shifted nervously under the glare.

"I just followed the instructions, sir, and ground up the wolfsbane before stirring it in…" Harry said, his voice quavering a bit more than he would have preferred. Snape raised his eyebrows in surprise, leaning back in his chair and then looking Harry up and down.

"And how did you know to do that? Wolfsbane isn't covered extensively until seventh year. How is it that you would know how to add it properly to the Eternal Flame Potion?" Snape asked, and Harry surprised even himself when he answered almost immediately.

"The potency of Wolfsbane is lessened when combined with flammable ingredients...it has to be added in small doses in order to mix properly," Harry said, and Snape stared at him in mild shock. The truth was that Harry had no idea how he knew that, he'd simply _known_, almost as if he'd done that sort of thing before.

"And HOW, pray tell, did you know _that_?" Snape hissed, angered that the boy had been able to answer so easily. He'd suspected that Potter had gotten the potion correct merely by accident, and he had been looking forward to rubbing that fact in.

"I--don't know sir, I just sort of—knew," Harry said uneasily, staring down at the top of Snape's desk. It was scuffed and decorated by a variety of stains from years of spills and boot-heels, half-hidden under a mess of scrolls and a few tiny stone figurines. Harry had never paid attention to them before, but now, while awaiting Snape's wrath, they were quite fascinating.

"You _don't know_…pitiful answer, Potter. Really, I'd expected something at least a little more creative than _that_," Snape growled, his face once again twisting into a wicked smile. So, he could have some fun with the boy after all, he thought. Snape was about to issue some command or another when Potter suddenly looked him straight in the eye, his green gaze bright and determined.

"Professor Snape, what are the Serpent's Children?" he asked, and Snape froze, his eyes wide in surprise. However, it was past in an instant, and his eyes soon narrowed with hatred.

"Where did you hear of them?" he hissed, barely managing to keep from yelling. Harry didn't answer, but instead hung on desperately to his newfound resolve.

"What are they?" he asked again, and low growl sounded deep from Snape's throat as he rose from his chair, towering over his young student.

"Out," he hissed, his palms pressed flatly to the desktop. Harry looked at him with a confused expression, taking a small step backward. "I said GET OUT! AND _NEVER_ MENTION THEM AGAIN!!" Snape roared, and Harry nearly fell flat on his face in the mad dash for the exit, not even bothering to close the door behind him as he ran in fear for his very life.

--------------------------

The common room was busy when Harry arrived back at Gryffindor tower, gaining quite a few stares for his panicked entrance. He continued straight up to the dormitory instead, ignoring the few questions that trailed after him. He paused at the end of his bed, hands on his knees as he struggled for breath. Thankfully, no one else was there at the moment. Falling back on his bed, he stared up at the stone ceiling, struggling to slow his rapid breathing. He'd undoubtedly hit a nerve with Snape, a _very_ sensitive nerve, at that. Never before (well…maybe once) had Snape ever gotten angry so quickly. And never in recorded history had Snape _ever_ allowed him to escape without his punishment. Although, Harry mused, Snape would probably just reassign detention for another day.

Attempting to roll over, Harry jumped up with a start when he felt something in his pocket poke him. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Harry reached down in his pocket and pulled out the offending object. It was one of Snape's figurines, a small obsidian lion. As he held it in his palm, wondering how it had gotten in his pocket in the first place, the lion yawned and stretched, beginning a slow pace across his hand. Harry smiled and reached a finger out to inspect the creature, stroking it along the tiny back as it paused it's pacing. Harry froze as a familiar feeling suddenly washed over him, and closed his eyes tightly as a wash of images suddenly flooded into his mind.

They were Snape's memories; Harry realized that the instant the first slid into focus. There were Death Eaters all around, and standing directly before him was a figure that nearly made his scar burn. It was Voldemort, in all his serpentine glory. His eyes were glowing fiercely crimson in the darkness of the strange room, and they shifted back and forth across his followers as a wicked smile formed on his sallow lips.

"Well done, my faithful servants," Voldemort hissed, casting a brilliant gaze about the room, before landing a nearly prideful look upon the figure that knelt near to him, one of the few not wearing a mask. It was Professor Snape. Voldemort strode forward, walking slowly in front of the dozen or so cloaked figures. "We have ensured the future…purified the unworthy. Once they have matured and learned our ways, the Serpent's Children shall rise up and fulfill Slytherin's dream! Muggle blood will run in the streets, dye the fields and our hands, as we take back the place of power that is rightfully ours!" he yelled, his hands thrown in the air as the Death Eaters rose and cheered. Harry couldn't help but notice that Snape didn't seem too enthusiastic.

"However…" Voldemort hissed, and the cheers died down slowly, many faces knitting in confusion, "I must say that I am terribly disappointed in most of you. I had planned on capturing 100 for our uses, as you recall… and would you like to know how many survived?"

No one answered, as all were glancing about nervously. "Only eighty! _Eighty_ of a hundred prospects! And you must know that not every one will bear our future, even speaking optimistically only half will return to us. That leaves forty. This does NOT please me." His eyes flared brightly. Nearly every Death Eater cringed, and then fell to the floor screaming in agony as Voldemort whispered 'Crucio' with a sick gleam in his eyes.

Harry noticed that only one escaped the Dark Lord's wrath, and that was Severus Snape, who remained kneeling before him, staring respectfully at the floor. Yet there was also a powerful emotion that accompanied the memory, nearly driving Harry to his own knees as a result. It was shame. Pure, strong, and unwavering shame, tinged with bright anger for the maniacally laughing figure in the memory.

Harry dropped the lion onto the bed with a gasp, jerking back away from it in surprise. The lion sprawled on the bedcover, rising shakily before resuming a slow pace, pausing briefly to lick its stone fur back into place.

"See anything interesting?" a voice asked, and Harry jumped again. Ron was sitting on his own bed, watching him curiously.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Ron pointed to the lion. "The paperweight. You were looking through it, weren't you?" Ron asked, and Harry stared at him blankly, and then looked back down at the lion.

"Looking…through it?" he asked, and Ron rolled his eyes in frustration.

"You haven't even heard of _that_? Honestly Harry, how you get through the day…" Ron muttered, and Harry gave him a pointed glare. "All right, all right! Sometimes if you have an object that's pretty important to someone, or is associated with some sort of intense emotion, it lets you see certain memories. The thing develops a connection with its owner, and lets you sort of connect with them too," Ron said, reaching toward the bedside table to pick up the small marble that had claimed its place there since the very first year. "This was my grandpa's, I look through it sometimes to remember him, it's like a live photo album for me," Ron said, and then carefully set the marble back in its place.

"Oh, so that's what it does…" Harry mused, glancing over at the crystal lily still sitting on the same table.

"So? Who's is it?" Ron persisted, crossing his legs impatiently.

"Snape's, it was on his desk. It must have jumped in my pocket when I was down there earlier," Harry said, picking up the lion again. He studied it a moment longer before setting it on the bedside table.

"Yikes…maybe I _don't_ wanna know what you saw…."

"It was Vol--er-- You-Know-Who, he was talking to the Death Eaters about the Serpent's Children," Harry said, and Ron's eyes widened, his interest instantly regained.

"Did you find out anything?"

"Not really…he just said that they were their 'future,' there are supposedly about forty of them, and that they'd help to accomplish Slytherin's Dream. I actually asked Snape about them earlier, and it seems to be a REALLY touchy subject with him, he kicked me out before making me serve my detention," Harry said, and Ron's jaw fell open.

"I'll have to remember that next time _I_ get detention," Ron said, and Harry couldn't help but smile slightly.

"I wouldn't recommend it. I've never seen him so angry before. I can't help but be curious about the whole thing now," Harry muttered, casting a thoughtful glance to the trunk at the end of his bed. An idea was forming in his head that would hopefully put an end to that curiosity…

"You're not going to do something crazy, are you? I mean, especially if Snape's already pissed at you…." Ron said, his gaze nearly begging Harry to let it be. Harry only cast him a mischievous smile and laid back on his bed, crossing his arms behind his head.

"It'll only be dangerous if I'm caught," he said with a impish grin, and Ron fell back on his own bed with a groan.

--------------------------

The halls were completely dark and empty when Harry crept down toward the dungeon, huddled safely beneath the folds of his father's cloak. The Marauders Map was held open in front of him, and Harry watched one particular dot patiently. Snape was milling about in his classroom, probably arranging things for the next day's classes. Harry made it down to the dungeons and the entrance to Snape's classroom without a hitch, and thankfully without once sighting Peeves or Filch wandering about. He pushed up against the wall outside Snape's classroom and waited, watching the dot on the map. It was a good fifteen minutes before the dot began moving toward the door, and Harry folded and pocketed it quickly. The echo of footsteps sounded nearer and nearer, until the door finally creaked open and Snape calmly emerged, shutting the door quietly behind him. He began walking softly down the hall, with Harry following silently at his heels. It felt as if he taunted death with each and every step and breath he took... As predicted, Snape headed toward his office, wand extended as he approached the door. Harry listened intently as Snape whispered the words to disable the charms that protected the room.

_"Veneficus," _Snape said, and there was a small flash of bluish light from the wand tip. Snape opened the door and stepped through, Harry struggling to match his professor's steps as he followed him, barely slipping through the door before it closed behind him. Snape immediately flicked his wand a second time, and the few floating candles above his desk flared to life. Secluding himself in a corner empty of the many jarred horrors that decorated the room, Harry stood silently as Snape shuffled through the papers atop his desk, running a hand back through his hair. The man looked tired, not just physically, but mentally as well, as if something immeasurably heavy weighed down his mind. It was very strange to see the stern Potions master looking so worn, his face devoid of a sneer and the harsh lines of anger. For once, Harry thought he looked human.

Snape stayed in the office for another half hour, grading the rolled parchments stacked on the side of his desk. Harry was disappointed, all his hard death defying work to spy on the man, and he hadn't said a word the entire time. He'd been hoping to overhear something about the Serpent's Children, but it appeared as if all was lost. Harry was about to follow Snape out the door when he got an idea. Since he was already _in_ Snape's office, he might as well have a look around, shouldn't he? He stayed in the corner as the lights went out and the door shut, listening intently as Snape repeated the password, and then headed off into the dungeon depths where Harry presumed his rooms were.

"_Lumos_," Harry whispered, and drew the cloak down around his shoulders, peering about the room by the light of his wand. Only once before had he had the 'pleasure' of studying Snape's office, and he hadn't really been too concerned with its contents then. Now however, he could search to his hearts content, perhaps even find a clue. First off, Harry headed to the desk, making himself at home in the tall, maroon chair. It was surprisingly comfortable, and Harry took a moment to view the desk from its owner's perspective, searching for anything interesting. A moment's inspection proved the desktop to be void of anything but school papers, one of which was Harry's. Another D, Harry grumbled. Hermione had even checked it over and it should have very well deserved an A. Replacing the paper to the pile, Harry opened the two desk drawers, flipping idly through the papers. The first held nothing but records and grade sheets, a few permission forms, files on students from Slytherin House…nothing of great interest. The second was equally as dull, although it contained a broken Sneakoscope and few potion vials, one of which was Veritaserum. Grumbling in frustration, Harry turned in the chair, and sighted a tall cupboard off to the side of the desk.

The cupboard was very old, and the doors gave a loud squeak as he carefully opened them, wary lest any exceptionally nasty 'specimens' were hidden within. Thankfully it was nearly bare, save for a few jars of different colored powders, and an object that caused Harry to grin from ear to ear. A Penseive. Without a second thought, Harry canceled the spell on his wand and prodded the silvery substance within the basin, setting it into cloud-like motion. Leaning forward into the Penseive, Harry was shocked when he was greeted by a scene nearly exactly the same as the one he'd seen through the lion.

He was looking down into a large, non-descript room, with chipped stone walls and rotting rugs thrown across the floor. A few rickety wooden tables and chairs lay scattered about the edge of the room, with one cushioned chair sitting solitary against the largest wall, with the Dark Lord himself seated within. He looked rather disinterested at the moment, merely watching his followers filing into the room through a staircase at the rear. As they came, they knelt before him silently, pressing their foreheads to the ground. Again Snape was near the front, and Harry could see his head turned slightly to watch for the last few Death Eaters. Those last few entered in a different fashion than the rest, apparrating directly into the midst, and each latched onto a female hostage. There were four women in total when the last arrived, each currently a victim of the Imperius Curse, for they stared blankly ahead of them without a word of protest.

Harry nearly jerked back when Voldemort suddenly stood from his chair, strolling forward to inspect each of the women. He looked them up and down, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled their scent, reptilian eyes shining with satisfaction.

"Excellent," he hissed, then turned on his heel and headed back to the front of the room. "They are powerful, though tainted...and we shall purify their line..." he said, his lips curling in a sinister, hungry grin. He turned and addressed the rest of the room, spreading his arms wide. "I promised you pleasure this night, did I not? Lucius, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott...I believe you had claim to these four? Have your way with them, but be sure that they still live when you've done," The Dark Lord ordered, and four robed figures next to him and Snape rose and bowed, heading back to take hold of the women. It was impossible to tell which was which, as they were identically robed and their faces hidden behind silvery masks. They dragged the women carelessly away, carting them up the stairs in the back of the room. Many cheers and whistles rose as they disappeared up the stairs, and the Dark Lord himself chuckled in sick delight. "You will all have your turn, more than one, if you wish. Severus, I trust you returned yours with no troubles? MacNair said she was quite difficult to capture..." the Dark Lord addressed to Snape's kneeling form. He didn't raise his head as he replied, and though his voice was calm and reverent, Harry had the strange feeling that if he'd been viewing the scene through the lion, he would have felt that same powerful wave of shame and revulsion.

"All went well, Lord. I thank you for your generosity," Snape said, and the Dark Lord nodded in satisfaction. Loud shrieks suddenly belted down from the staircase, and Harry was sure he saw Snape flinch at the sound. The Dark Lord was no longer looking at him, however, and he began laughing at the sound, face twisted in masochistic joy.

Harry had had enough. He pulled back out of the cupboard and closed the doors a bit more roughly than he'd intended. Shocked and sickened by what he'd seen, he fell back into the chair, not bothering to re-ignite his wand. Before now, he'd known that the Dark Lord was sick and twisted, but never in _that_ way. Harry could still hear the screams in his head, fearful and pleading, wrought with pain and torture as their will was taken from them. But there was more to it than that, something the Dark Lord had planned for those women beyond being simple pleasures for his followers. Hadn't he asked Snape if he'd _returned_ his, not killed? Harry shuddered at that; disgusted by the possibility that Snape had done something so horrid. Quickly passing that thought out of his mind, Harry ignited his wand and walked back to the door, pulling the Invisibility Cloak over his head once again. After quickly whispering the password, Harry slipped quietly from the room, pausing briefly to seal the door once again

----End Chapter 3--

_Veneficus_...poisoner


	4. The Gray Lady

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. are property of J. K. Rowling. I make no claim on them or their world, nor do I gain anything material by the writing of this fanfiction. I do, however, get enjoyment from writing it, and I don't think you can sue for that. ; )

**Special Thanks to**: Saffron, for beta reading this monster. Thank you!

A Father's Sin 

_by_ **Severitus**

CHAPTER 4 **--** _**The Gray Lady**_

Breakfast wasn't so much a priority the next morning, as it was devoured quickly and without the usual lingering enjoyment. By the time Harry, Ron, and Hermione had each emptied their plates, not a one could remember with any certainty what had been served. The truly important thing to be done that morning was to figure out the significance of the Pensieve's vision, and to fill Hermione in on what she'd missed. She caught on quickly enough, though Harry noticed that she was still acting strangely toward him.

"You should've stayed to see what else Snape has stored in the Pensieve..." Hermione muttered, leaning an elbow on the table as she thought. Ron rolled his eyes slightly, but Harry crossed his arms angrily.

"I don't think I'd _want_ to see what else he had in there. Maybe it didn't have anything to do with the Serpent's Children at all..." Harry said, and Hermione gave him that look that clearly said she was having doubts about his brain.

"It has _everything_ to do with it, Harry. You didn't give the Pensieve a command, did you?" she said, her arms now crossed on the table in front of her.

"No.…"

"See? Unless told otherwise, a Pensieve will show the most recently accessed memory. And you _said_ that Snape was furious when you mentioned the Serpent's Children, and that it looked like the same room you saw through the lion…If it upset him that much, it only makes sense that he'd use the Pensieve," she said, embittered by the fact that she was obviously the only one who knew anything about Pensieves.

"Well, that still doesn't help us any," Ron muttered, throwing Harry a look. Hermione made a disgusted sound in her throat and furrowed her eyebrows, her palms pressed flat on the tabletop.

"It tells us everything! Snape obviously knows something about the Serpent's Children, and there's only one way we're going to find out what. Harry, you've got to sneak back down there tonight and tell the Pensieve to show Snape's memories of the Serpent's Children to you," Hermione said, leaving no room for argument. Harry gaped at her in confusion, glancing quickly to Ron for help.

"Why Harry?" Ron offered.

"Because he's better at sneaking around than we are, and I'm better at inventing cover stories. He can go down tonight, after we practice you-know-what," she said, and Harry let his head fall to the table. Another night of death-defying and delving into the mind of his least favorite person. Admittedly, Harry wanted to find out what Snape knew just as much as Hermione, but something about delving into his memories frightened him. Snape had been a Death Eater, after all. Who knew what horrors lurked in the recesses of his mind? Murder, torture, mayhem, Voldemort...Harry didn't like the possibilities.

----------------

That afternoon, Headmaster Dumbledore sat in his office, rereading a curious letter he'd been sent two days previous. Sitting nervously across the desk from him was the author of that letter, looking very much like she'd rather be any place in the world but there. She was an old woman, dressed in simple gray robes and a purple shawl. Her face was of the kindly sort, wrinkled from years of smiles and laughter, her eyes containing a youthful twinkle that made one think of a kindly grandmother or nanny. Currently she was twisting a handkerchief in her lap, staring at the top of Dumbledore's desk as if searching for an escape.

"Relax, Mrs. Templeton. You're not in any trouble, if that is what has you worried," Dumbledore offered, though his voice was missing much of its usual conviction. He was still staring at the letter, as if unable to completely grasp the meaning of the writing there.

"It's not that, Professor. I just...I just don't want him to be hurt. I remember reading in the news about what the Ministry did...I didn't tell anyone because of them. I couldn't, not knowing what they'd do…." she said, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears as she looked up at last. Dumbledore lowered the letter, adjusting the glasses on his nose.

"I understand. It was wise of you. I assume you've told me because of the recent events in the news?" he asked, and she nodded, still twisting her handkerchief.

"Has anything happened here? I mean, anything like...?" she began, her expression terrified. The cloth strained against her fingers, the small flowers embroidered on it warped out of shape.

"No, thankfully. All appears to be normal, though I can't say for sure if things will stay that way," he said, then paused to rub his temple gently, his eyes shut tightly. "I'm glad you told me, though I can honestly say that I'm not sure what to do about it."

"You've got to help him! He doesn't--" she began, leaning forward in panic. Dumbledore waved his hands for her to calm down, and she sat back, clutching the twisted cloth to her chest.

"Calm down, Mrs. Templeton. I will not abandon him, though I'm not sure that I'm the right person to help him on this..." he said, and she sat back, nodding in comprehension. Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair, taking a sip from the cup of tea set on the edge of his desk. "Now, I want you to tell me everything, from the beginning. I want to hear every word."

"Yes, Professor."

------------------------------

The first Quidditch practice of the year wasn't much fun, Harry thought as practice ended, even with Ron on the team. Harry had, predictably, been made team captain, and Ron had been appointed as the new Gryffindor Keeper. Harry circled idly above the field, watching in amusement as the rest of the team (namely Fred and George) gave Ron strong pats on the back as they headed off the field. He'd been practicing over the summer, and had turned out to be an exceptional Keeper. Hopefully they'd have a strong team this year, assuming they could find a good Chaser in team tryouts.

Circling lower, Harry saw something out of the corner of his eyes that caught his interest. Upon closer inspection, he saw that there was a boy standing alone, watching him, from just within the line of trees. Curious, Harry drifted closer, drawing just near enough to make out the boy's face. He looked to be about Harry's age, dressed in rich purple robes with no school designation on the shoulder. The boy looked familiar at first, and it took Harry a moment to realize that he looked an awful lot like Draco Malfoy. The most significant difference was the hair color, which was a deep, slicked-back brown. The other difference was the odd marking on his cheek, a small serpent set just beneath the right cheekbone. Something about that symbol sent a chill up Harry's spine, and he started to drift further away, watching the boy warily.

"I can't enter," he said, and Harry stopped, steering his broom nearer again. He kept a good distance between them, his hand unconsciously drifting to the wand at his side.

"What did you say?" Harry asked, and the figure smiled, the tattoo standing out vividly against his pale flesh.

"I said, 'I cannot enter.' The warding spells keep me out," he said, and Harry flinched as he felt his scar twinge. The boy was radiating power, something dark and horribly familiar. With each second it was growing stronger, and Harry could feel his thoughts growing fuzzy, drifting out of focus.

"Who are you?" he hissed angrily, holding a hand to his forehead. There was an odd, dull roar rising in the back of his mind, a white noise that was steadily beginning to make it difficult to even hear his own thoughts.

"Son of your enemy," he answered, lips curling in a very Malfoy-like smirk. Then he turned and abruptly dashed off into the trees, robes whipping behind him.

"Harry! Are you all right?!" Ron asked, suddenly standing next to Harry, broom slung across one shoulder. Only then did Harry realize that he was standing on the ground, still staring at the spot of trees where the mysterious boy had disappeared.

"What? Yes, I'm fine...but did you see that?" Harry asked, propping his own broom against his shoulder.

"See what? I turned around and saw you just standing there, staring off at the trees..." said Ron, his eyes wide with worry.

"I just thought I saw someone, I guess," Harry muttered, casting one last glance toward the trees. Had he just imagined it? Shaking his head in frustration, Harry turned around and nodded to Ron, straightening his glasses. "Come on, let's get back inside before dark." Ron nodded reluctantly, and they began the slow trek across the field in silence.

Ron kept glancing over at him in worry, but Harry didn't say a word. His thoughts were still a bit fuzzy, and he kept wondering about what he'd seen. The tattoo especially kept plaguing his thoughts. Could that have been one of the so-called Serpent's Children? It certainly seemed like it. He had to tell Dumbledore, he realized. He'd want to know about one being so close to the school.

"Are you coming, Harry?" Ron asked when they reached the main hall. Ron had started heading in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, but Harry had stopped near main door, not following.

"No, Ron. I've got to see Dumbledore. I'll see you at dinner, all right?" Harry said, and Ron nodded, watching him worriedly.

"All right, see you there," Ron said, then reluctantly turned and headed down a hallway. Harry watched him go, then turned toward a staircase and headed up slowly, his eyes unfocused as he ascended them almost mechanically. A woman in gray robes passed by him at some point, but he didn't look up, continuing up till he stood before the stone gargoyle. However, before he breathed a word, someone spoke to him.

"Evening, Harry. Did you have a nice practice session today?" a voice asked, and Harry turned to see Headmaster Dumbledore himself standing just off to the side, looking especially tired.

"It was all right I suppose, it's hard to do much without a full team," Harry replied, blinking as he struggled out of the slight daze. Dumbledore nodded, and stepped up to the gargoyle.

"Vanilla Taffy," Dumbledore said, and motioned for Harry to follow him up to the office. After sitting down heavily in the chair behind his desk, Dumbledore rested his head on one hand and rubbed his eyes lightly. Only once had Harry ever seen the headmaster look so strained, so weighed down by something on his mind, and that had been after Voldemort's return. Whatever was bothering the headmaster now couldn't be good, and Harry was loathe to add to it.

"Headmaster, are you all right?" Harry asked, and Dumbledore looked up, his face twisting into a light smile after a moment.

"Yes, thank you, Harry," he said, taking pride in his student's concern. "Now, there must be a reason you were standing in front of my gargoyle?" he said, and Harry nodded, lowering his gaze.

"I saw someone…Near the forest just after practice," Harry said. Dumbledore's eyes instantly widened and he sat up quickly.

"You saw someone?" he prompted.

Harry shifted nervously, surprised by the headmaster's sudden interest. "Yes...a boy about my age. He looked a little bit like Draco, only he had brown hair and a serpent tattoo on his cheek," he said. The headmaster blinked, his eyebrows knitting slightly.

"Did he speak to you at all?" The headmaster asked.

"He just said that he couldn't enter because of the warding spells. I asked him who he was, and he answered 'son of my enemy,' before disappearing off into the forest," Harry said, not looking Dumbledore in the eye. He was remembering the effect the boy had had on him, the dark aura he had exuded. Scratching the back of his neck nervously, Harry settled for fiddling with the broomstick in his hands to occupy himself. Dumbledore looked fairly disturbed now, his eyes unfocused as he thought about what Harry had said.

"Was his power familiar? Like…" Dumbledore began, and Harry perked up, surprised that the Headmaster had known about the boy's aura.

"Like Voldemort's?" Harry offered softly, and Dumbledore's eyes snapped on him instantly.

"Yes. Exactly like that," he said, and Harry knew by his expression that Voldemort was part of what had been bothering the man. Realizing that, he thought he might broach a question on the subject.

"Do you think that he could be one of the Serpent's Children?" Harry asked, and he watched as Dumbledore flinched slightly, his fingers curling and eyes shutting tightly. He sighed deeply then, leaning back in his chair heavily.

"Yes, Harry. He was one of the Serpent's Children.… I just can't believe one dared to come so close to the school..." Dumbledore looked away in thought for a moment, his fingers plucking at his snow colored beard. "I think I better tell you some about them, Harry...it might be safer if you happen to run into one again."

"All right, sir," Harry said when Dumbledore paused, looking more forlorn than Harry had ever seen him. Clearing his throat once, the headmaster began, his voice devoid of all its usual cheer.

"As you know," he began, "Voldemort views Muggles and Muggle-borns with the utmost hatred. He murdered them at every opportunity, but even so he realized the futility of his efforts, there were far too many to be simply killed." Though he was gazing at his desk as he spoke, his stare was glazed and unseeing, as if he were lost in a distant memory. "Therefore, he came up with a plan that would serve to purify the wizarding world and ensure his control of it. He ordered the Death Eaters to venture out and kidnap Muggle-born women, and... rape them," he said, and Harry drew in a sharp breath, images from the Pensieve flashing through his mind.

Dumbledore waited a moment, studying Harry's horrified reaction before continuing. "Through a link he forged with his Death Eaters, he ensured that some of his power would be passed onto each and every child born of the crime, and that each would bear the symbol of the Serpent. These are known as the Serpent's Children. Voldemort can control them easily through the power they share, and now that he has risen again, he is calling upon their power. " Dumbledore stopped, watching his young student yet again. Harry was battling a variety of emotions, mainly a bitter, seething hatred and fresh disgust for the Dark Lord; there was also confusion and fear, roiling brighter when his mind briefly flicked back to the crystal lily sitting on his bedside table.

"There are forty of them," Harry said after a moment, staring at the clenched fists rested in his lap. Dumbledore looked up, his mouth slightly open with surprise.

"Not any more," Dumbledore said in a quiet voice, and Harry knew then that there was much that he had not been told, and probably would never be. "How did you know?"Dumbledore inquired.

"I accidently looked through one of Sn--er, Professor Snape's figurines. I saw Voldemort torturing the Death Eaters because there would be only about forty of them," Harry said, and he could have sworn that Dumbledore looked relieved, and then saddened again as he explained.

"Yes...the Death Eaters are notorious for their brutality...many of the women did not survive, a great number died, in fact," Dumbledore said, and Harry watched as the old wizard's eyes filled with a deep remorse. "I pray you never know the extent of that violence, Harry. Even with everything my old eyes have seen throughout the years, nothing can compare to what the Death Eaters did at Voldemort's command," he said, and Harry saw a flicker of bright pain flash behind the man's eyes as he spoke, but it vanished as he sat up in his chair, sucking in a deep breath. "I apologize, Harry, I should not be saying such things, but I knew many of the women who died, most were former students. However, I'm telling you this in the possibly vain hope that you will leave the matter alone. The Serpent's Children have the potential to be just as cruel as Voldemort, and I doubt even you could stand up against their combined power, Harry."

"How many are there...?" Harry asked tentatively, a tinge of fear coloring his voice. If what Dumbledore said was true, there could be a couple dozen semi-Dark Lords running around, and that was not a pleasant thought.

"We don't know for sure, it was impossible to keep tabs on them all. Voldemort made sure that the women never saw the faces of their attackers, and not even the Dark Lord himself knew for sure which Death Eater took which woman. It was protection against spies, so that no names could be given even under Veritaserum. Memory charms were also used on many of the women, and as a result the women themselves didn't know that they were raising the child of a Death Eater, rather than that of their own husband. Only now are the remaining Serpent's Children being revealed for who they are, by answering Voldemort's murderous call. Four families, supposedly those raising the Serpent's Children, have already been killed. There's no telling how many more there will be."

"So that must have been Lucius Malfoy's son I saw..." Harry whispered, torn between shock at everything he'd been told, and disgust at the thought of yet another Malfoy.

"Most likely," Dumbledore answered, then his expression transformed into one of deadly seriousness. "Harry, until the matter is resolved, I do not want you leaving the school grounds, not even to go to Hogsmeade," he said, and Harry gaped at him in shock. He opened his mouth to protest, but the old wizard cut him off with a wave of his hand. "No buts, Harry. Their lives are dedicated to Voldemort, and he is obsessed with your death. If one has already approached you, then there will be more. The warding spells can protect you here, but there is nothing to stop them if you set foot beyond the border. I want you to promise me that you will not, even once, leave the grounds," Dumbledore said, his voice low and clear. His eyes were cold and firmly focused, not flinching once from Harry's shocked gaze.

"I promise, Professor Dumbledore," he said, doing his best to look the old wizard in the eye. The headmaster smiled and nodded, leaning back from the desk again.

"Thank you, Harry. You set an old man's heart at rest."

---------------------

--_That night_--

Harry shifted uncomfortably, attempting to arrange the long, bushy tail behind him into a position where he could sit properly. After a minute or two of searching, he ended up sprawled strangely in the armchair, his legs thrown up over the arm. Across from him, Hermione and Ron still had their eyes closed, and Harry had to stifle a giggle at the sight of the two tall, pointed ears sticking up through Ron's mess of red hair. Although, Harry thought, he wasn't one to be laughing. There was no doubt that Harry had made the most progress in the group, both his hands were now paws and he kept biting his tongue with the sharp teeth that had invaded his mouth. He'd been shocked at how quickly he'd progressed, and attributed that fact to his father's own Animagus training, maybe it ran in the family.

"I swear-- that feels weirder each time..." Ron grumbled as he opened his amber eyes, and Harry smiled lightly, his tail flicking back and forth from its place hanging over the chair edge. Harry kind of liked the tail, he decided. It was very strange to have another limb, but he was surprised at how easy controlling it was.

"You've got ears, Ron," Harry said, and Ron instantly grinned, reaching his furry hands up to inspect the triangular additions.

"Whoa... what would Mum say?" Ron grinned, and Harry laughed. "You've got a tail!" Ron exclaimed, "Wicked! I hope I get one, too!" Harry flicked the tail again, smiling brightly.

"You probably will, Ron, judging by your ears," Hermione said as she opened her eyes, twitching her nose at the small, feline whiskers that she'd sprouted. "Me too, most likely," she added, inspecting the soft pads just visible on the palms of her hands.

"This will be so cool.… Just imagine, chasing Mrs. Norris down the halls in the dead of night..." Ron said, his eyes taking on a dreamy expression. Sighing, Harry let his head fall back against the arm of the chair, staring up at the roof. For a moment he remembered what Sirius had told him, stories about the Marauders' moonlight adventures. Stag, wolf, rat, and dog, dashing through the night forest with not a care in the world. Maybe he should contact Lupin, Harry thought, as there was a possibility that he was the wolf from the prophecy.

"Harry, would you hand me that book please?" Hermione asked, and Harry cast her a glare, raising his paws in the air.

"I would, if I had opposable thumbs," he muttered, flexing his pearly claws in the firelight. Hermione turned red, Ron laughing all the while.

"Sorry, Harry…." she muttered, and Harry laughed; this was turning out to be fun already.

They changed back shortly afterward, and then discussed the prophecy for a while, hoping to find something they'd missed or something they could link to what Dumbledore had said. Ron and Hermione had both been shocked when Harry had told them about his chat with Dumbledore, with Hermione looking especially pale. Harry noticed with no small amount of unease that she kept watching him curiously, though he didn't dare ask her why. As a whole they were still curious about the Serpent's Children and, despite his futile protests, Harry would be venturing down to the dungeons yet again. Before long, Harry found himself near dozing in a huge armchair, the Marauders' Map spread in his lap as he waited for one stubborn dot to leave its office.

It was near midnight when Harry finally got started on his way, with Ron calling after him not to get caught red-pawed, which was possibly the worst joke Ron had ever made. They had agreed to wait up for his return, just in case he got caught or happened to discover something that just couldn't wait until morning.

Harry hated sneaking; he realized that as he slipped down toward the dungeons for the second time. It was true that he had an odd knack for it, but defying the wrath of Filch and Snape was not what Harry would call his cup of tea. After all, trouble found him more often than not-- there certainly wasn't any need to go looking for it. Harry froze when he spied a dot on the weathered map moving in his direction, and he quickly pressed up against a nearby wall, gritting his teeth in an attempt to slow his breath. He'd never been so thankful for the Invisibility Cloak as he was then, rough stone grating against his back as yellowish light from a lantern steadily grew upon the opposite wall, flickering wildly. It was Filch, he could hear the steady stomp and drag as the caretaker slowly emerged from the entrance of a nearby hallway, Mrs. Norris following a mere step behind. The cat froze once she'd rounded the corner, the lamplight reflecting vividly within her already unearthly eyes. She was staring directly at him, her whiskers twitching in familiar confusion. Filch paused a moment later, turning back toward the feline with a gruff, twisted smile.

"Nothing there, my sweet. Come on, now," he said, the cat's ears twitching at the rough voice. Filch continued on, the lamp swinging hypnotically back and forth, Harry struggling to keep his breath as the man passed by. The cat's eyes never once strayed from him as she trotted past, issuing one long, baleful meow when they were mere feet apart. It seemed to take ages for them to reach the turn in the hallway, the light steadily shrinking around the far corner. Harry let out a whoosh of breath and held a hand to his chest, his heart beating rapidly. Harry sagged with relief, turning out into the hallway once again. He was near to the dungeon staircase-- he could feel the cool draft of air leaving the black entrance.

Descending the steps painfully slow, Harry paused every few steps to light his wand and check the map, which thankfully maintained that Snape was nowhere near either the stairs or his office. Nevertheless, Harry couldn't quench the unconscious fear that rose like a tidal wave every time he made the slightest sound. He nearly cried with relief when, at long last, he reached the door to Snape's office, the dark wood of the door shining almost crimson in the soft light shed by his wand.

_"Veneficus," _Harry whispered, and twisted open the icy doorknob as silently as he could, for the door hinges were in want of a greasing. Quickly shutting the door behind him, Harry pressed his back up against the wood and glanced about the room, as if making sure that the map clutched tightly in his hand told the truth. The room was just as it had been the night before, with the exception of the pile of parchment upon the desk being significantly smaller. Harry desperately wanted to get the whole thing done and over with, so he quickly dashed behind the desk, letting the hood of his cloak fall back against his shoulders. Carefully opening the cabinet, Harry sucked in a deep breath and leaned inside, warily prodding the contents of the Pensieve. Truthful be told, he really didn't want to know what Snape knew about the Serpent's Children. Dumbledore had, after all, told him most everything about them. Was it really worth it, to be down here risking House points just to try and unravel some ridiculous prophecy? The more Harry thought about it, the more he wanted to simply turn around and forget the whole thing. But then he remembered the crystal Lily on the nightstand, his mother being dragged away kicking and screaming by Voldemort's faithful servants, and his resolve was instantly renewed. Looking back at the Pensieve, now churning like a thunderstorm, Harry cleared his throat and gave it a command.

"Show me my mother," he said, and the cloudlike contents of the basin began swirling in earnest, shifting between light and dark. Harry leaned forward and looked inside; and before he knew it, he was completely lost inside the memory.

He was at Hogwarts, standing in a hallway amidst a bustle of students. Then he saw her, standing against a nearby wall amidst a group a young Gryffindors. She must have been only thirteen or fourteen, for she too was dressed in the classic school robes and familiar colors. Her red hair was what he recognized first, and then the pair of green eyes that exactly matched the pair he saw each time he looked in a mirror. Harry walked closer, his jaw opened wide as he stared at his mother smiling and laughing and so full of life. This was nothing in comparison to the pictures in his photo album, even if she was much younger. This was her. Alive. After a moment, she said something to her friends and began wandering in Harry's direction, her eyes fixed on something just behind him. Turning to find out what, Harry nearly stumbled when he sighted the figure standing directly behind him. A boy her age, tall, with long black hair and uncommonly pale skin. The eyes were black as coal, but lit up in a friendly manner when Lily came nearer, his mouth twisting into a vague smile. Recognition dawned on Harry instantly-- it was Snape.

"Hello, Severus, how did D.A.D.A. go today?" she asked, adjusting the pair of Charms books held tightly to her chest. Snape shrugged lightly, his eyes flicking further down the hall to where a group of Gryffindor boys had gathered.

"Fairly well, though I must warn you that the teacher is quite fond of demonstrations," he said, his mouth twisting into an amused smile.

"I'll keep that in mind. We're still on for Transfiguration homework tonight, right?" she asked, watching him expectantly.

"Of course, as long as Potter and his merry men don't kill me first," Snape muttered, rolling his eyes in disgust.

"Honestly, won't you two _ever_ give it up? You've been at each others throats since day one, and I _still_ don't understand why!" Lily huffed.

Snape shifted uneasily. "Mystery of the Universe," he muttered darkly.

Lily scowled, shifting her books so she could place one hand on her hip. "Mystery indeed. You're not innocent of it either. You've pulled your share of pranks on James as well. His hair is still a bit green, you know," she said, though her mouth turned up in a slight smile. Snape grumbled, but after glancing down the hall once, his own mouth twisted into a half-smile.

"Score one for Slytherin, then," he said, and Lily shook her head in dismay, turning to head down the hall.

"You two are hopeless. I'll see you this evening, all right?" she said, and Snape nodded. She turned and continued down the hall, with Snape's gaze once again directed at a certain group of Gryffindors, eyes swirling with malice.

The scene changed then, the people fading off into nothingness and the walls shifting and bending. Harry was still mulling over the fact that his mother had been on friendly terms with Snape when the next memory shifted into focus, and Harry's thoughts froze. It was the room again, the one he'd seen through the lion and in the Pensieve before.

He was standing in the back of the room, looking directly ahead past the rows of cloaked figures at the looming form of the Dark Lord. He looked unusually pleased in this memory, his crimson eyes flashing brilliantly. His teeth were gritted in a sort of predatory satisfaction as he glanced about the room, eyes flicking from one figure to another. Only two figures did not have their masks on, one was a younger Peter Pettigrew, and another was a young boy Harry didn't recognize. Suddenly, just as they had before, more Death Eaters began Apparating into the room, close to where Harry stood. The first one clutched a blonde woman, and though she was immobile, her eyes were busily flicking about the room in the utmost terror. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat as he realized what her fate would soon be. The very thought made him sick to his stomach, but he watched, both fascinated and horrified by the familiar proceedings. A second Death Eater was clutching the throat of another woman, whose eyes were tightly shut. The Dark Lord had risen, and was strolling toward the women slowly, his crimson eyes flashing. Then, two more Death Eaters appeared, and Harry fell to the ground with a sharp gasp. They had his mother. Each one held tightly to her arms as she lashed wildly, kicking out and twisting her body in an attempt to attack her captors. The Dark Lord grinned slyly, watching her in fascination as yet more Death Eaters appeared, each with another immobile victim. His mother was the only one fighting, the only one screaming silently and lashing out with everything she had. Harry felt his breath quickening in fear as he watched her, the edges of his vision blurring as salty tears encroached in on the scene. At the Dark Lord's summon, a single Death Eater rose from the ranks, silently stepping up behind the Dark Lord.

"Why is she fighting?" the Dark Lord asked of the two Death Eaters restraining Harry's mother.

"She fought the Imperius, Master." one explained, his masked face turned to the ground. "We had no time to try casting another spell."

The Dark Lord nodded solemnly, and then proceeded to walk before the other captives, his eyes flicking up and down each one as his nostrils flared violently. The Death Eater that had risen earlier now approached the struggling woman, wand held tightly in one gloved hand. He raised it to her and whispered "_Serenus!_"

Instantly she stopped lashing, her eye lids drooping and limbs growing weak, though she still weakly tugged at the hands gripping her arms.

"Is that the one you have chosen?" Voldemort asked, turning to face the standing Death Eater. He nodded slowly, and Voldemort smiled evilly, and with a wave of his hand, four more Death Eaters rose from the ranks, each approaching and taking a place before one of the women. "Proceed then, and may I warn you again to keep them alive," Voldemort hissed, and Death Eaters each took the women from their captors' grasp and began carting them toward the back of the room. Three of the women were dragged violently, one was thrown over a shoulder. Harry's mother alone was carried with a degree of dignity. She was held, albeit a little carelessly, in one of the Death Eaters arms as he followed his comrades up the dark staircase in the back of the room.

Harry didn't want to hear what came next, he didn't want to hear his mother screaming like he'd heard the other women the last time he'd dared look through the Pensieve. More than anything in the world he wanted the memory to end, to be back up in Gryffindor common room without having seen the look of pure fury and terror on his mother's face, or the sick gleam within the Dark Lord's eyes. Harry nearly screamed when a hand settled on his shoulder, and the room before him began to swirl away and disappear. Blinking slowly, Harry struggled to catch his breath, leaning heavily against the cabinet. Only then did he realize that someone had lit the candles in the room, and that he was no longer alone. Turning slowly around, Harry feared the very worst. And then saw it standing directly before him-- Professor Snape himself.

---end chapter 4-----

Translations: (_not_ in proper Latin, of course)

serenus-- tranquil


	5. And the World Crumbles

WARNING:: This chapter contains references to subjects that some people may not like (rape/murder). You have been warned...

**A Father's Sin**

_by Severitus_

**Chapter 5** ---- _And the World Crumbles_

"So. You know," Snape said, flicking his black gaze briefly to the Pensieve and then locking it back onto Harry's panicked green eyes. For a moment Harry stared at the man in confusion, surprised to find that he wasn't immediately blasted through the nearest wall.

"I-- yes...some of it," Harry replied.

Snape turned slightly and sat down in his chair, letting out a deep sigh. "I assume Dumbledore answered the question you asked me the other night," he stated icily.

Harry leaned further back against the cupboard before nodding slightly. "Now...why are you down here prowling about, when you already have the answer to your question?" Snape asked, and when he turned to look at Harry once again, anger had begun to fill his eyes, growing darker with each passing second.

Harry swallowed quickly, unable to stop himself from shaking under the professor's fierce gaze.

"I---looked through a figurine that belonged to my mother, and I saw the Death Eaters capture her," he stuttered, heart hammering, and was thoroughly surprised when he looked up and saw that some of the anger had drained from Snape's features, replaced by a mild surprise.

"And you thought I might have seen what happened to her," he said after a moment, his voice still flat and cold.

"Yes," Harry said quietly, leveling a wary gaze at his professor. In every right, he should have been expelled by now. Why was Snape being almost civil all of a sudden? It was certainly not a good sign; perhaps Snape had something especially nasty in mind as retribution. However, when Snape continued, Harry could do nothing but stare blankly in reply.

"Sit down, Potter. Simply out of respect for your mother and to keep you out of my office, I will answer your questions. However, if after I have explained it all, I _ever_ catch you snooping around down here again, or hear a word breathed of it again, I _will _have you expelled. Is that quite clear?" he said, his voice transforming into a deep growl at the last. Harry nodded quickly, dashed around the desk to sit in one of the two chairs facing it and looked across at his teacher once again, nearly trembling with fear and confusion. "Well? What are you waiting for?" Snape barked, and Harry jumped slightly, his knuckles white as he gripped the arms of the chair.

"Okay...um, what happened to her? I mean, aside from..." Harry said, and Snape looked reluctant at first, but leaned forward and folded his hands on the desktop, his eyes staring down at them.

"What do you think? You came close to having a sibling born to serve the Dark Lord," he hissed angrily, nearly spitting the name. "She was returned to her home, just the same as the others. She resisted all attempts of a memory alteration, just as she resisted the Imperius Curse," he added flatly. He then fell silent, awaiting the next question. Harry blinked, allowing Snape's first bitter reply to sink in.

"Why her...?" Harry said, his eyes sliding out of focus, once again remembering that look of pure fear on her face in the Pensieve...

"Your mother was extremely powerful, as were the other four you saw with her. Voldemort awarded them to his most powerful servants, as a reward for their loyalty." He paused again, and then leaned back in frustration, rapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Forget what I said earlier, Potter. I will not answer your questions. I am going to explain to you what happened, and then you are going to leave immediately. Understood?" Snape asked. Harry nodded dumbly; after all, did it really matter how he got his answers? If Snape was going to tell him outright, it'd be best to simply count his blessings.

"Yes, Professor," he replied.

Snape nodded in grim satisfaction. "Good," he said, and leaned back in his chair again, lacing his fingers beneath his chin. "Your mother was captured for two reasons. One; her power; and two, the main reason, she was a Muggleborn, and to Voldemort, impure. Voldemort had it in his mind to purify all the 'impure' by adding his power to their line and, consequently, insuring his future reign. Your would-be sibling would have been considered the very purest of the pure, despite their mother's blood, simply because their father was a Death Eater." Snape paused for a moment, eyes swirling as he gathered his thoughts. Harry perked up as a question formed in his mind, and he decided to risk asking it.

"Professor... Headmaster Dumbledore mentioned that many of the women died, and also kept referring to the 'remaining' Serpent's Children…" Harry began, and thankfully Snape wasn't angered by the question.

"Yes... As I'm sure you're aware, for even _you_ aren't that dense, the captured women were raped. Many of the Death Eaters thrive on pain; even find a twisted pleasure in causing it. That's why so many follow the Dark Lord-- for the chance to cause pain, to torture and kill. Many couldn't resist the temptation that a helpless 'Mudblood' provided. Some were tortured beyond belief, even outright murdered."

Lowering his head, Harry stared at his hands, fighting against he nausea and disgust in his stomach. Had his mother been tortured too? Had she been screaming in agony, just like the ones he'd heard through the Pensieve?

Snape's face seemed to pale further as he spoke, his eyes momentarily lost in a void of memory. "As to the Serpent's Children, that's different. That actually wasn't the Dark Lord's doing. Once the Ministry found out about his plan, they launched a massive campaign against him, determined to root out each and every child born of the union. It was one of the darkest points in the Ministry's history, and also the reason why very few look kindly upon its officials," Snape said, his eyes narrowed in disgust, a muscle in his cheek twitching slightly.

"Why's that?" Harry ventured.

Snape continued. "They murdered children," he said, his voice very low and grave, "Dozens of them. Each and every child suspected to be of the Serpent were slain without question. It was discovered later that most of them were innocent. There is only one sure way to identify a Serpent's Child, and that is by a small mark in the shape of a snake, something that is easily disguised. That little tidbit of information was never released, the Ministry didn't want anyone rising up against them any more than they already were."

Harry gaped at his professor in shock. He had noticed that the Ministry was often spoken of in a questionable fashion, but he had never dared to ask why. Never had he imagined anything of the sort-- nothing even remotely as horrible as the murder of innocent children.

"Did they...torture my mum?" Harry asked quietly.

Snape shifted uncomfortably, finally settling for staring at the desk with half-closed eyes.

"No, she was not tortured," he said simply. Harry glanced at him in curiosity. Snape's face had gone slack, now filled with a very obvious pain.

Finally, he began to explain, though he did not look up even once, "Your mother and I were friends of a sort, back when we were students here. We began studying together our first year; she would help me with the subjects I had trouble with, and I would do the same for her. If I'm not mistaken, she was the only reason I passed Charms," he said, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. "When Voldemort ordered his followers to begin capturing powerful Muggle-born witches, I was one of his top servants. I was granted the privilege of choosing among the most powerful. I chose your mother." Snape's abruptly flicked up to watch Harry. Harry only gaped in return, staring at his teacher in disbelief.

"I hadn't much choice in the matter," Snape continued. "It was required of me to take at least one of them. I knew what the other Death Eaters would do to her-- I had seen the results time and time again. The least I could do for her was to take her myself, without pain. She never saw my face," Snape added quietly. It was then that Harry thought he understood why Snape hated him so. Why he yelled at him and ridiculed him, and yet saved his life without even blinking. He, Harry, was a reminder. He reminded Snape of his mother and what he had to do to her, to a woman that had, once upon a time, been his friend. Seeing him was like staring guilt straight in the face with nowhere to run.

Snape abruptly stood up from his chair, palms pressed flatly to the desktop. Harry jerked in surprise and then leapt to his own feet in confusion.

"Now," Snape barked, his face twisted again into its usual look of disdain, "I hope you are satisfied. You will never speak of this to me or _anyone_ again, and if I _ever_ catch you even remotely near my office at night again, I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your putrid life. I refrained from deducting every single bloody point from your House tonight out of respect for your mother, and because you, being her son as well as the Dark Lord's primary target, have a right to know. Now get out of my office before I change my mind," he growled. Harry instantly nodded, muttering a futile 'thank you' before dashing wildly out the door.

Harry was halfway down the hall before he remembered to put the Invisibility Cloak back on. He kept running down the hall and up the stairs, ignoring the loud slap of his shoes on stone. Disturbing thought upon thought whirled in his head as he ran, accented with images of his mother screaming and battling her captors with all the fury of a caged lion. Her face streaked with tears, wrists red and worn from the hands that held her tightly, presenting her for display to their dark master. And one thought, perhaps the worst one of all, kept swirling through his mind, refusing to be ignored or pushed back to the recesses of memory. _Snape had raped his mother._ Harry couldn't help the pure rage that the very thought ignited, the pure venom directed toward his teacher, even despite everything he'd said. And Voldemort-- Harry's hatred for him was now more than it had ever been, increased tenfold. He had hated the Dark Lord for killing his parents, even vowed an impossible revenge. But now-- now that he knew Voldemort had not only murdered them, but ordered Harry's mother to be violated in such a way---Harry struggled to force his thoughts away from it, to clear away the crimson haze that had edged in on his vision.

Stumbling lifelessly into Gryffindor Tower, Harry paused just inside the portal, leaning against the wall for support. He still felt sick to his stomach, yet at the same time he felt vaguely dead inside, frozen with shock.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Hermione said caitiously, her face lined with concern as she approached from a nearby couch. Harry looked up, struggling to focus his eyes and drag himself up out of his thoughts.

"Huh?" he muttered at first, then struggled to wet his dry mouth. "Yeah...I'm just a little overwhelmed. I'll be okay," he muttered, and now Ron was standing too, watching him worriedly. Straightening up, Harry made his way to one of the high-backed chairs and flopped down in it heavily, turning his gaze to the fire. Ron and Hermione stayed watching him from their places, unsure whether to believe him or not. "Well?" Harry said tiredly. "Don't you want to hear what I've found out?"

The two took their seats nearby, silent at first. "Harry, you sure you want to talk about it now? I mean...you look pretty pale," Ron said.

Harry shook his head, then removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"No. Now is best. I want to get it over with," he said, and they nodded, leaning back and waiting for him to begin. A moment later he began, telling them first about the boy he'd seen near the Quidditch field, and then about the murdered women. At the very last, he told them about the Ministry. He didn't mention one word about his mother, or about Snape. When he'd finished, they both realized that he wasn't telling them something. Hermione especially looked worried, but he remained stubbornly silent. They didn't ask any questions, and they didn't make any comments, excepting one by Ron about the Ministry. Afterward, they sat in silence, either staring at the floor or into the fire. They had all their answers about the Serpent's Children, but they didn't know what to do with them. The prophecy was still a mystery and, in all truth, they had each learned more than they had wanted to.

Ron was the first to snap out of the daze, standing brusquely and stretching lightly."Maybe we should all go to bed, think about it more tomorrow," he muttered, his eyes downcast and uneasy. Harry nodded and rose too, but Hermione stayed sitting, staring at her feet and twisting her hands nervously. Harry hadn't noticed at first, but she looked absolutely terrified. Her skin was pale and her eyes shown dully, shining wetly in the firelight.

"Are you coming, Hermione?" he asked.

She sucked in a shaky breath."Harry, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked softly, though her voice was clear with resolve. Ron shifted uneasily and Harry stared at her warily, a slight twinge of fear trickling down his spine.

"I'll see you in a few then, Harry," Ron said, then turned and climbed silently up the stairs. Harry stared after him for a moment, for some reason feeling as if his last chance for escape had fled. Nevertheless he stayed, settling back down into the chair across from Hermione.

"What is it?" he asked.

Hermione looked up in reply, her gaze once again firm and unrelenting.

"What did you leave out?" she asked, her voice both soft and firm at the same time. For a moment, Harry stared back, his eyes swirling with indecision. It seemed as if Hermione was desperate to know for some reason, aching to dispel some thought or belief. After what seemed like hours, he nodded solemnly, and relented.

"My mother was one of those women," he said at first, and Hermione's eyes instantly widened in horror. "Snape told me that I almost had a sibling born to serve the Voldemort..." Harry said, and gave a dull, humorless laugh. "Want to know how he knows that, aside from the obvious?" Harry asked, and Hermione nodded haltingly. "Because he was the one who raped her," he revealed, anger transforming the words into a growl. Hermione gasped sharply, her hands flying up to her mouth. She began shaking as Harry sat there glaring at the fire as if his rage fueled the flames to greater intensity. "Now it seems I have a reason to hate him," Harry said flatly, eyes never once leaving the blaze. If he had glanced up, he would have seen Hermione's horrified expression, and the tears that began leaking down her cheeks before she hung her head to stare at the floor. "He said he did it so that she wouldn't be harmed, so she wouldn't be at the mercy of one of the other Death Eaters. Imagine that," he said dryly, and Hermione stifled a loud sob, shaking her head slowly back and forth.

"Harry...I've got to tell you something," she said softly, her voice threatening to break. Harry looked over at her, the anger disappearing as concern for his friend overtook his features.

"What is it?" he inquired.

She reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks but kept her head lowered, staring down at her feet.

"Remember when you got called away from Transfiguration the other day? To talk to Dumbledore?" she asked, and Harry nodded slowly, brows lowered in confusion. "She taught us that 'Revelo Veritas' spell, to see through Glamourie?" she added, her voice strengthening slightly as she spoke.

"Yes, which you still haven't taught me..." Harry muttered, anxious for her to go on.

"And for a good reason!" Hermione snapped, and Harry sat back, watching her wide-eyed. "I lied to you, I _did_ cast the spell right. But when I saw you..." she began, and her voice broke into a weak sob, Harry stood up to go and put a hand on her shoulder in comfort, but she jerked up and shook her head, again wiping the tears from her eyes. "No, I'm all right," she said, then hung her head a little again. "You've got a Glamourie spell on you, Harry...I saw through it with that spell McGonagall taught us," she said, and Harry stared at her blankly, unsure exactly where things were going.

"So? It's probably just one of Malfoy's pranks..." Harry muttered darkly, already vowing revenge for the slight. Hermione positively glared at him then, her eyes sparkling dangerously.

"No, you don't understand. This spell was cast a long time ago…."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked, eyeing her curiously.

"Because you _are_ the spell, Harry! The spell hides everything about you, everything but your scar!" she cried, and Harry stared blankly, leaning slowly back in his chair. "What you see in the mirror, what everyone sees when they look at you, that is the spell!" she finished, tears once again brimming in her eyes.

"I... I don't understand..." he managed, struggling to focus his thoughts on her words. Nothing seemed to quite sink in; it was again as if a strange haze was muddling his thoughts, shattering them before they had completely formed.

"When I looked at you that day, I saw a complete stranger. I only recognized your eyes and the scar. That's why I've been acting strangely toward you, and that's why I haven't taught you the 'Revelo Veritas' spell," she said, and fell silent, watching him with fear clearly visible in her eyes. He opened and closed his mouth slightly, then began rubbing his temples, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"No, that's impossible..." he said finally. "Why would anyone do that to me? What purpose is there?"

"You have the mark of the Serpent," she whispered, and Harry stalled his protests, his eyes frozen on Hermione's pained gaze.

"What?" he asked, his voice slurred with disbelief.

"On your forehead, just between your eyes," she whispered, looking down at the floor again. Her hands were twisting the cloth of her robes, threatening to tear it if her grip became much tighter. Harry fell back in the chair, eyes wide and unblinking. Everything seemed fuzzy, as if the whole world was sliding steadily out of focus. It was as if his mind had shut down for a moment, halted in shock as the massive revelation overtook his mind, banishing everything but that one pivotal piece of information.

"I'm... one of them...?" he asked weakly, voice barely above a whisper.

"You are one of the Serpent's Children, Harry. You know what that means..." Hermione began, her voice perfectly calm and grave.

"Of _course_ I know what it means!!" Harry snapped, his face briefly contorted in anger. Hermione was watching him like a frightened lamb, her eyes wide in shock. Harry sighed and hung his head in his hands, shocked by his own violent reaction. "I'm sorry, Hermione…."

"No harm done," she said quickly, though she still trembled slightly. Harry was shaking as well, his hands trembling from their place on the back of his head, fingers wound tightly through his hair. Nothing was said for a long while, and the embers in the fire began to grow lower, shrinking down as the night grew deeper.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked at last, though Hermione knew he wasn't referring to her statement.

"Yes," she said, nodding slightly. Her eyes were cast toward the ground, studying the moving shadows across the stone.

"Then my entire life is a lie," he whispered, and Hermione flicked her eyes up. He was staring at the fire once again, the flickering light dancing within his now dull green eyes. An eerie calm seemed to have settled over him as he sat there, his mouth drawn in a tight, thin line. Standing up slowly, he didn't blink once, but rather turned and began walking toward the stairway, stopping only once he reached its foot. "Thank you for telling me, Hermione," he said, turning to look at her over his shoulder. He meant it sincerely, but Hermione couldn't stop her own tears at the look of pure, raw pain she saw in his eyes. For a long while after he'd disappeared she sat there, head in her hands as she sobbed, tears sparkling in the ever dimming light.

Harry felt dead, as if the very life had been sucked out of him but his body had forgotten to stop working. 'This must be what the Dementor's Kiss is like,' he managed to think as he passed through the bedroom doorway. Ron was already asleep, tucked safely under the covers with his mouth hanging slightly open. Bright light from the half-moon outside shone across the worn, stone floor, magnifying every shadow to otherworldly proportions. Everything seemed hazy, almost surreal, as he passed through the room. Things that were normally ignored now seemed almost horrific, closing in on the world like the creeping shadows of evening. Nothing seemed _real_. It was as if the world had transformed into some nightmarish dreamscape, lost in a moment of perfect quiet, waiting for some hideous thing to erupt from the shadows and rend everything into darkness.

The bed was soft, Harry noticed as he lay down on his side, not bothering to change out of his robes or shed his shoes. He was facing the nightstand, where the moonlight was reflecting in a multitude of colors through the crystal lily. The lion was there too, still pacing aimlessly between patches of light and shadow. Harry shut his eyes tightly, curling his hands into fists around the edge of his pillow. Was it real? Was _any_ of it real? Would he wake up in an hour to find himself locked in the Dursley's cupboard, still orphaned by a car crash? There were no answers. No longer was he comfortable to believe in anything he'd been told. After all, it could turn out to be a lie too, couldn't it? Everything else was. His entire life seemed to be a falsification, a fabricated truth shaped to please those around him, those more powerful than him. Maybe there was no such thing as magic; maybe the last four years had been nothing but a dream. Harry wished it were so. He wished he could wake up never having heard of the Serpent's Children, of Voldemort, of dark wizards and Aurors and parents that supposedly loved you enough to die for you.

Had his mother known? Had she known the minute that he had been born that he was something evil, that the Serpent's Mark identified him as the spawn of a Death Eater, and not her husband? Had _James_ known about her capture in the first place? Even after so many questions had been answered, there seemed to be no end to the confusion that roiled within Harry's mind. He couldn't understand, couldn't even _fathom_ what it all meant. The Serpent's Children had been _bred_ to serve the Dark Lord. _He'd_ been bred to serve him; born of hatred, fear and pain rather than the newly wed love of James of Lily Potter. He was something evil, a twisted creation tainted with the power of the darkest wizard ever to wield a wand.

Harry curled up tightly, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his arms. It felt as if he would break into pieces from the violent trembling that shook his body, every muscle tensed as if cringing from an imminent beating. He wanted to yell out, to scream at the top of his lungs until the pain and confusion shattered like a million shards of glass. But he couldn't cry. There were no tears in his eyes, no wrenching sobs caught in the dry depths of his throat. The dead cannot cry after all, and neither can snakes. Serpent's have no tears, no way to show the world the pain they bear, no way to release the well of emotion buried deep inside, desperate to burst free. They are cold, silent, and lay curled tightly in the dark just as Harry upon his bed.

Gone was the tremulous image of a loving mother; gone was the idolized image of a popular father. The images were warped now, frayed and transformed; replaced by that of a woman shrieking in pain, battling captivity and servitude at the risk of her very life. And the father---the father that was not James Potter, not the star Quidditch player or secret Animagus, trickster enough to rival even the Weasley twins. No--how could he be? James Potter's son would not bear the sigil of the serpent, nor have his very appearance disguised by magic, nor be lied about by his own mother in shame of the hideous truth. James Potter's son wouldn't have been curled in a fetal position atop the bed sheets, lost inside the void of his own mind as the world crumbled around him. He was not 'Harry Potter,' he had no right to bear that name. As he lay there, eyes clenched tightly and teeth gritted, Harry remembered what the boy in the woods had said. He'd said, "Son of your enemy." The boy hadn't been talking about himself, he'd been talking about Harry. Not, however, the enemy with crimson eyes and bone-white skin, but the one that stalked the school corridors, shrouded by seething hatred and darkness. His father was a man who strived to make his every day a living hell; who sneered at his pain, threw salt on every wound, and thoroughly hated him with every inch of his blackened heart. Before succumbing to the fatigue that only now dared to creep upon his mind, Harry realized something that made it all just a little bit worse. He had Potions tomorrow, and he'd rather face Voldemort himself than set one foot in that room...and look his father in the eye.

-----End Chapter 5----


	6. The Lion

A Father's Sin

Chapter 6 -The Lion

            Harry wasn't sure if the loud crack of thunder was real, or just a fleeting remnant of his dream. Something had been chasing him through a forest, he remembered, but he'd never once seen what it was. A second crack of thunder echoed through the dormitory, causing the windows to rattle dangerously in their panes. He could hear Ron's marble start to roll across the table, finally clinking to a stop against the candleholder. So…he was awake then. Eyes held stubbornly shut, Harry merely lay there, struggling to ignore the faint sounds of his roommates waking and kicking off their sheets. He was hoping that if he lay there long enough, everyone would set off for breakfast and let him have the room to himself. However, such was not to be.

            "Harry, wake up! We'll miss breakfast!" Ron said from someplace nearby. Harry only groaned and rolled over, not even bothering to open his eyes.

            "So?" he muttered, his voice slurred with sleep.

            "So? We never miss breakfast! And you've still got to get Hermione to teach you that spell; we've got Transfiguration today. Remember?" Ron persisted, and Harry's eyes snapped open. The spell…there had to be some way to get out of it, wasn't there? If he was partnered with someone and they cast the spell….

            "I'm not going to class," Harry said, then finally uncurled and sat up stiffly, regretting the fact that he hadn't bothered to change into his nightclothes. The room was illuminated only by a dim, grayish light seeping through the blurry windows, the glass obscured by the pounding rain.

            "What?! You can't skip it! She'll take off points, and we haven't got many to start with!" Ron said desperately, all the while struggling to pull on an old tennis shoe.

            "I'll come to breakfast, but I don't promise anything," Harry said, reaching up to straighten his glasses. Were his _glasses_ even real...? Harry wondered, his fingers lingering on the frame. When he looked back up, Ron was no longer watching him impatiently, but his expression was concerned instead.

            "Are you gonna be okay?" he asked, and the room was briefly illuminated by a nearby flash of lightning. Harry didn't answer, but turned his gaze to the floor, watching the reflected image of the rain upon the cold stone floor. "What did Hermione want to talk to you about?" Ron asked suddenly, and Harry flinched, pulling one knee up against his chest.

            "I can't...not right now," Harry said, shaking his head. 

            "That bad?" Ron asked quietly, lip curled slightly.

            "Yeah," Harry whispered, then abruptly stood up from the bed, straightening his wrinkled robes. "Let's go to breakfast, okay?" he said, and attempted a cheery smile. He was sure it wasn't the least bit convincing, but Ron smiled in return anyway.

            "Breakfast it is, then," Ron said, and they headed off toward the stairs.

            Hermione was waiting for them down in the common room, shifting anxiously from foot to foot near the portal. Her eyes were still a little red and puffy, but she did an excellent job of hiding it with a cheery smile when they came down the stairs.

            "Morning, 'Mione!" Ron said happily, and she rolled her eyes at the nickname.

            "Good morning, Ron," she said as he passed through the portal beside her. When she turned to look at Harry, her eyes were filled with concern, and much remorse. "How are you, Harry?" she asked quietly, and he only shrugged in reply, pausing near the doorway. "Listen, I'm sorry.…" she began, but Harry shook his head quickly.

            "No, you've nothing to be sorry for. It's good that you told me, it took a lot for you to do that," Harry said, and managed a small, genuine smile. He knew it must have been hard for her to break the news to him, knowing just how much of an effect it would have. She'd told him the truth straight out, and he knew without a doubt that he had a true friend in her.

            "Thank you, Harry," she said, smiling lightly. Wasn't she the one supposed to be comforting _him_? She thought. Harry nodded and passed through the door, eyes still cast toward the ground. The three of them continued on to the Great Hall in silence, save for the constant howling of the wind outside and the intermittent crash of thunder. It was very eerie walking down the dim, gray halls, with the torches flickering in an hour not their own. Harry felt himself slowly drifting away, senses slowly dulling till it seemed like he was watching everything through a window. By the time they reached the Great Hall, his eyes were dull and unfocused, his mind blissfully blank.

            "---said that he'd be collecting it today," someone said, and Harry jerked up, for the first time realizing that they were already seated at the table, and that somehow he'd managed to devour half of his breakfast without even noticing it. Hermione was looking at him as if expecting a reply, and Ron was leaned over, digging busily through his school bag.

            "Sorry...but what did you say?" Harry asked, setting his fork back on the table. His stomach didn't seem to like being fed this morning, it was still roiling unpleasantly with a bit of nausea.

            "I just asked if you two had done your Charms homework, Professor Flitwick said he'd be collecting it today," she repeated, then inclined her head and finished off the last bite of her breakfast.

            "Yeah...I finished it before Quidditch practice," Harry said, blinking repeatedly in an attempt to clear his mind. Thoughts didn't want to form properly, as if his brain was still sleeping, or refusing to think for fear of rousing demons. However, that didn't stop a tremor of fear to surface at the mention of classes. "Hermione, did McGonagall say what we'd be doing today?" he asked, and her gaze instantly snapped up.

            "Don't worry, Harry. She's just lecturing today, that's why she told us to practice on our own. If she changes her mind, I promise to do something, distract her or...something," Hermione assured, setting aside the glass of juice she'd been holding. Ron was looking at the two of them strangely, but he didn't say a word.

            "All right...I guess I'll come then," Harry muttered, and Ron's face lit up with a thankful smile. "We'd better get going." 

---------

            'I shouldn't have said a word, I should have just given him a month's detention...' Severus thought again, stalking down the dungeon hallway toward his classroom. If it were at all possible, his gaze was blacker now than it had ever been. What had been his excuse to the boy? Respect for his mother? Indeed, perhaps that had been part of the reason, but he wouldn't fool himself into believing it was the entire truth. No, the real reason he'd bothered to spill his darkest secret to the son of his enemy could be summed up in one word. Guilt. Guilt and a sorry attempt to alleviate some of the pain that the memory inspired. Instead, hat very guilt had kept him up all night yet again, staring into the blackness of his room while seeing her face over and over again. The face of his school-time friend, twisted in terror, eyes widened and horrified as she realized her fate.

            "No," Snape growled angrily, gritting his teeth so hard that his jaw muscles began to twitch. He would not allow those memories to surface again. Wasn't fifteen years enough to kill his guilt? Shouldn't he be able to sleep at night now, without her face haunting his nightmares, without that idiot child reminding him of her every bloody time he opened his eyes? Yes, telling her son had been a sorry attempt to make it up to Lily, to prove that he regretted it his every waking moment. It was supposed to make him feel better, to release him from the guilt and remorse that weighed him down into darkness. Oh yes, he had _plenty_ of other things to be guilty for, a lifetime's worth of it in fact. Was it really asking so much to be forgiven for one thing? Something he'd strived to make up for since that horrid day itself?

            As he slammed open the doors to his classroom, Snape sighted one figure in particular and knew it was not to be. As long as _he_ was at Hogwarts, as long as _his_ name was in conversation, in the newspapers, or even _alive_ Severus knew he'd never be free of the pain and guilt. How could he, with those haunting green eyes watching him through her son?

---------

            It had taken every ounce of willpower Harry possessed to walk through the door. The very instant he'd seen it, he'd frozen on the spot. In fact, he was pretty sure he'd nearly collapsed with the way his legs had suddenly weakened. And then there was the doorway...gaping like a black maw ready to suck him down. The feeling vaguely reminded him of his second year, before entering the chamber of secrets. It had been the same today, standing before the doorway knowing that something horrible was waiting within. In the end, he'd stepped through, clutching his bag in a white knuckled grasp. And then he'd made his way to the front of the room to set the lion back on the desk, and then slowly returned to his table, focusing on one step at a time. He sat between Ron and Hermione, wrapping his arms tightly around his chest as they waited. Snape was never late, and as the minute ticked closer, Ron had to put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from bolting. Thankfully, Hermione had been right about Transfiguration earlier. McGonagall had made them take notes on how to end a glamourie spell, and hadn't even bothered to demonstrate. For once, something had gone well.

            And then the doors suddenly opened, slamming wide with enough force to rattle the cauldrons on their stands. Harry froze, the wheels inside his mind grinding to a sudden halt. His eyes were wide and staring, focused on the dark swirl of cloth as the Potions Master headed to the front of the room. Once he'd reached the chalkboard, he turned to the class, staring off into the Slytherin side of the room.

            "Take notes," he said flatly, and began scribbling a list of ingredients on the board, his back to the room. Harry sat stock still, afraid to move or even breath. The muscles in his cheeks were aching from clenching his teeth so tightly, but he hardly noticed. All he wanted was for the class to end, for Snape to ignore him completely. More than anything in the world, he wanted to slide down in his desk and disappear. Why had he even come? He should have stayed in the dormitory, crawled under the covers and stayed there until graduation. Maybe he could still slip out quietly....

            A sharp elbow in his ribs startled him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see Hermione frantically pointing at her notes. He hadn't even bothered to unpack a quill and parchment yet. Quietly, Harry snatched the things from his bag, eyes never once leaving the front of the room, as if Snape would attack the instant his gaze was turned. But Snape didn't turn around, and Harry began scribbling his notes, struggling to focus on neatly copying the words on the board and nothing else. And then Snape turned around briefly, and Harry blotched his notes, struggling to slow his racing heart. Seeing that black gaze turned on him once again triggered a flood of images, flashes of his mother's capture, of Snape admitting to raping her, of Hermione with her head in her hands, reluctant to bring his world crashing down. One word that had once been so cherished he couldn't even _think_ anymore, any thought even remotely associated with it causing his chest to constrict, threatening to crush his lungs and stop his heart. Now his mind shied away from the word like a horrible disease, something that would leap out and destroy him if he dared get to close. That man was his...no, his mind couldn't even admit the truth. After so many years of wishing for nothing but his family, wanting desperately to call someone by the name 'mother' and...the other. And now...now he couldn't bare it, couldn't even attempt it without nearly suffocating. 

            "Your homework for tonight is to write a paragraph on each of these ingredients, describing where they can be found and for what they are most commonly used. I expect you to be _thorough_," Snape said, half turned toward the class with his arms crossed. Harry's quill scratched to a halt at the voice, other words it had spoken rising in his mind. '...I chose your mother.' Harry drew in a slow, deep breath, concentrating on getting the quill moving again. *scratch* *scratch* *scratch*

            "Now...." the voice drawled again, "I believe you all have some homework to hand in?" Snape continued, mouth curving into a slight smirk as every student began frantically digging through their satchels. One student, however, remained perfectly still, staring at his quill with an expression like that of a hunted deer. Snape's smirk grew wider, and his eyes flashed darkly. He moved slowly down between the tables, turning and gliding silently in front of the petrified student. Oh, he had _so_ been hoping he'd do something punishable, wishes did come true, it seemed.

            "Something the matter, Potter? Or did you _forget_ that I assigned you three pages on the Eternal Flame potion?" he said, enjoying the way the boy's hand spasmed in surprise at his voice, and the sudden vertical streak left on the parchment by the quill.

            "I...don't have it, Professor," Harry stuttered, his voice quavering slightly. He'd forgotten completely about the paper, he hadn't even _started_ it. Slowly, he raised his head, doing his best to steel his expression as he sighted the professor's face.

            "That's too bad Potter," Snape drawled, though he was vaguely surprised by the expression on the boy's face. Potter was never usually so frightened of him, nervous, yes, but never shaking in outright fear. Snape passed it off as a result of the previous night's conversation, and deepened his smirk into a glare. "I suppose you think yourself too 'special' to bother with your homework," Snape said, then turned his gaze to the ceiling, tapping his jaw in thought, "I wonder, what would your _parents_ think of you?" he said, and several Slytherins began snickering loudly. All memory of guilt blissfully vanished and Snape looked down again, enjoying the sight of the famous 'Potter' shaking in sheer terror. 

            Suddenly, there was a loud 'bang' as Harry knocked his chair to the floor, running at full speed toward the door. He could hear Snape yelling after him as he fled into the hall, and the loud laughter of every Slytherin in the room. He couldn't take it, couldn't stand being in that room, facing _him_ and knowing who he was. His feet pounded against the stone as he ran, taking the stairs out of the dungeon two at a time. He should have just stayed in bed...should have skipped the class, he repeated to himself. Practically flying out of the stairwell, he took the turn sharply, ignoring the startled looks on the faces of the students in the main hallway. Let them stare, that wasn't anything new. Now it was in surprise, but maybe soon it would be in disgust in hatred, or even worse, fear.

            Flinging open the main doors, Harry didn't stop till he was fully outside, standing on the rain-slick steps. He sat down heavily, ignoring the pelting rain that stung his face, fogging up his glasses. Lightning still flashed in the sky, the bottom of the bolts hidden behind the dark expanse of the forest. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he shivered, staring down at the miniature splashes the raindrops made on the steps. It was a good day to rain, a good day for the vicious wind and biting cold.

            "Harry?" a gruff voice asked, and he looked up in surprise to see Hagrid standing next to him, his moleskin coat spotted by the rain. 

            "Hi, Hagrid," he mumbled, reaching up to wipe the rain from his face.

            "Aren't ya suppos'd to be in class right now?" Hagrid asked, descending a step or two.

            "Yes," Harry replied, and Hagrid sighed deeply, straightening his jacket. Leaning down, Hagrid placed one massive hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly, smiling when Harry looked up again.

            "Why don' ya come over fer some tea? You'll get sick sittin' out 'ere," he said, and Harry nodded after a moment, rising slowly from the steps.

            "Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said, and they headed off down the path, trudging through the stinging rain.

            The fire sparked loudly as Hagrid threw another log onto the flames, moving it around with the rusted poker. Harry watched idly, the sparks reflecting in the lenses of his glasses as he stared down at his tea, lost in thought again.  Hagrid hadn't asked any questions, merely poured him tea and settled a warm blanket around his shoulders. The silence was nice, Harry thought. Just the rhythmic sound of the wind and the rain, and the quiet crackling of the fire.

            "Did I ever tell ya 'bout the time I almost got eaten by a Peryton?" Hagrid rumbled suddenly, settling down in the chair opposite Harry. Startled, Harry glanced up.

            "No, I don't think so. What happened?" Harry asked, wrapping his hands around the tea mug to warm them. Maybe a friendly voice would help keep his mind off of things.

            "It happened jus' a couple a years ago, right 'ere in the forest. Never been so scared in me life as that day, 'cept maybe when they carted me off ta Azkaban. But that's differnt'. Anyway, me an' Fang were out a huntin', trackin' some beastie or 'nother, when outta nowhere come's this Peryton, swooping outta the trees like some giant vulture," Hagrid began, pausing to take a drink from his own tea mug.

            "What's a Peryton?" Harry asked, never once had he heard of such a creature.

            "Big ole bird-like thing, has the legs an' head of a dear, only filled with lotsa teeth. Viscious brutes, they'll attack anythin' they can fit their teeth in. Anyhow, as I was sayin', this thing swoops down at us, and I barely get outta it's way in time. Fang went runnin' home, jus' like the coward he is. I took offa runnin' too, fas' as I could to get back 'ere. But that thin' really wanted me fer dinner, and jus kept on a comin. Finally it got me cornered, and was standin' there in the path, starin' at me with those hungry red eyes," Hagrid paused, a shiver wracking his great form, "Sorry," he muttered, "Anyway, I happened ta glance off behin' it, and see this other great beast standin' off in the brush, watchin' us like it thought we were amusin'. I'd seen that thing before, hidin' in the shadows or runnin' through the trees...never seen anythin' like it. All I knew was that it scared me, maybe as much as the Peryton, even though he was the one 'bout to eat me. It's got eyes like none I ever seen, black as coal, but shinin' green when the light hits 'em."

            "What was it?" Harry asked, completely wrapped up in the story.

            "A lion, but like none ye'll ever see in a zoo. See, first off, we ain't supposed to have lions 'ere, too far north for 'em. An second, this lion is _black_, and as far as I know, they ain't supposed to be that color. He's huge too, like no beast I ever seen before. As I was sittin; there, watchin' the lion an the Peryton, sure I was gonna die by one evil thing or another, somethin' that I'll never forget happened. That lion came out of the shadows at a run, and hit that Peryton like the Hogwart's Express. Smashed it right into the groun', he did, an' then took it's neck in 'is jaws and snapped it quick as a wink. Then he jus' looked up at me, licking his pearly teeth, and sauntered back off into the shadows like he adn't done a thing," Hagrid finished, shaking his head in disbelief. Harry gaped at him for a moment, nearly forgetting the tea cup he held near his mouth. A lion? Could it be the one from the prophecy?

            "Is it still around?" Harry asked, then quickly finished off his tea.

            "Yup. I seen 'im a few times, not recently though. I don' doubt he's still out there though, still gives me the willies thinkin' 'bout it," Hagrid said, and suppressed another shiver. 

            "Thanks for telling me Hagrid, and for inviting me over," Harry said, setting his empty cup on the table.

            "Anytime, Harry. You'd best be gettin' back now, they'll be servin' up dinner soon," Hagrid said, rising from his chair and stretching loudly. Harry stood up and folded the blanket on the back of the chair, and headed for the door.

            "Bye Hagrid!" he said, and the half-giant waved back before closing the door behind him.  Heading off into the rain, Harry felt surprisingly better. Leave it to Hagrid to know just what to do, Harry thought with a smile. But that part with the lion was nagging at the back of his mind, and he knew he'd have to share the story with Ron and Hermione that evening. It was better than discussing other things, he thought grimly.

            Harry nearly felt like himself again when he stepped back into the main hallway. There weren't many people about, as most had already gone to the Great Hall for dinner. He was a bit hungry, Harry realized, and then examined his soaked robes. He'd have to change first, he realized. The halls were nearly empty on the way back to Gryffindor tower, so he quickened his pace to a run, anxious to change out of the freezing garments. From around a far corner, Harry heard a loud sound, like the shutting of a door. Skidding down to a walk, he started to become annoyed by the loud squeaking his shoes made with each step. Then something black suddenly appeared at the end of the hall, and instantly Harry felt his mind freezing up again, shrinking back in pure terror. It was Snape.

            Without even realizing it, Harry dived behind a nearby statue, praying desperately that Snape hadn't seen him. The last thing he wanted was to be cornered by Snape in an empty hallway, with absolutely nowhere to run. Struggling to quiet his panicked breathing, Harry pressed his back up against the rear of the statue, listening intently for the sound of footsteps. He heard none, however, as Snape rarely made any noise. He was like that, suddenly able to appear out of nowhere as if he really _was_ just a shadow. A minute ticked by, then another. Staying perfectly still, Harry squeezed his eyes shut, still listening for even the softest rustle of cloth. He heard nothing. Another minute passed by, Snape should have been long gone by now. Nearly trembling, Harry opened his eyes, and edged slowly away from the statue, daring to look out into the hall.

            "Evening, Potter," a deep, menacing voice growled, and Harry stared in horror at the figure leaning against the _front_ of the statue. "I believe we need to have a little chat."

------end Chapter 6--------


	7. Breaking

::Notes:: I wrote this while listening to 'Era'....::sniff:: they're so cool.... ANd as always, thanks a bunch to everybody that reviewed!!! I would like to tahnk you personally, but I'm running late and have to get this posted! It's already 10!!! Sorry!  
  
Chapter 7----Breaking  
  
  
  
Harry didn't move. Not a muscle twitched, nor an eye blinked, or even the tiniest breath filled his lungs as he stared at the black-clad figure. Snape was leaning nonchalantly against the statue, arms crossed and with a sneer cruel enough to send grown men screaming fixed upon his face.  
  
"You've got some explaining to do, Potter." Snape growled, and Harry jerked out of his shock, sucking in a forgotten breath. Snape was watching him coldly, standing just as still as he had been only a moment before. Harry shivered, unsure if it was caused by the chill of his soaked robes or from Snape's icy glare. "Well, aren't you going to tell me /why/ you're hiding behind this statue, when you should very well be in the Great Hall?" Snape growled, though his eyes twinkled in dark pleasure from tormenting the boy. Harry took another deep breath, daring to look up from the floor. There was no use lying, was there?  
  
"I was just...hiding, from you, Professor." Harry said, struggling to keep his voice relatively calm.  
  
"That much is obvious." Snape barked, and Harry cringed, feeling the last bit of his weak resolve crumbling away. "What I want to know, is WHY. And don't you dare claim it's because of what I told you last night. Something /else/ is going on, isn't there?" Snape said, though it was much more a statement of fact than it was a question.  
  
"Yes..." Harry said, nodding weakly. He'd pressed his back up against the wall again, using it's support to keep himself from falling. Snape took a step closer, towering over him, the flickering light from a nearby torch casting half his face into shadow.  
  
"Well? Are you going to tell me willingly, or do I have to drag you down to my office and force Veritaserum down your throat? Before assigning you a weeks detention and deducting half your house points, that is." Snape growled, black eyes flashing in warning. Harry was silent for a moment, flicking his gaze briefly to the statue and then to Snape once again.  
  
He had to tell him, he realized. As desperately as he wanted to keep it a secret, to banish the knowledge to the furthest recesses of his mind, he knew he had to tell him. After all, Gryffindor's were supposed to be brave, weren't they? But then again, the Sorting Hat /had/ wanted to put him in Slytherin....there was certainly no questioning its reasoning on the matter now. But more than that, it was simply the right thing to do, the thing James Potter would have done. Harry cringed slightly as the thought, turning his eyes toward the statue once again. 'Just say it, Harry,' he told himself, taking several deep, preparatory breaths. Snape was waiting.  
  
"I found out something else....after I talked to you." Harry began, struggling and nearly succeeding to keep his voice calm and normal. Snape's mouth twisted into a smirk, pleased with having succeeded. "Hermione cast this spell we learned in Transfiguration, and we sort of found out that....that," Harry stuttered on the last word, the rest sticking in his throat. 'Damn it, Harry, just get it over with!' he thought, and sucked in another breath.  
  
"That /what/?" Snape growled sharply, one foot tapping impatiently.  
  
"THAT YOU'RE MY FATHER!!! OKAY?!" Harry yelled, dropping his forehead into his hands. There. He'd said it. The truth revealed at the very top of his lungs, no cringing in fear or falling to pieces on the floor. Score one for Gryffindor.  
  
Snape was silent, frozen in his previous stance with the sole exception of his eyes, which were wide with shock "What?" Snape asked, his voice low and airy.  
  
"You heard me." Harry whispered, unable to tear his gaze away from Snape's expression. A muscle in Snape's cheek was twitching slightly, betraying the swirl of thought running rampant behind the frozen expression. Then an eye twitched, and the eyebrows began to tip downward, lips curling back from gritted teeth. The already black eyes grew even darker, filling with a hatred and fury unlike anything he'd seen before.  
  
"You dare...." Snape hissed, and Harry pressed up against the statue, watching Snape's expression as if it were a bomb exploding in slow motion. A low rumbling was rising deep in his throat, growing in intensity, "You would /dare/...." Snape repeated, his voice low and guttural. "Do you have any idea how many nights I've lain awake, plagued by the memory of what I did to your mother?!" he began, the rumbling in his throat as deep as a roll of thunder, "How for 15 years I've seen her face every time I close my eyes, hear her screaming, pleading to be let go?! EVERY TIME I SEE YOU SHE HAUNTS ME!!!!" he yelled, his eyes were wide with fury, revealing more of their whites than Harry believed he'd ever seen, "In your eyes, boy, I see my hell. And you would DARE to torment me! Out of respect for her, I tell you the truth, digging up memories that should be left where they are. And YOU....you have the GALL to throw my words in my face!" Snape roared, white knuckled fists shaking at his sides. Abruptly, he whirled around, turning his back on the terrified boy. "Perhaps it's a good thing your parents are not alive, Potter." Snape growled dangerously, "They'd be loathe to call /you/ their son." he hissed, then turned back around, fully intent upon sending the whelp to detention for the rest of his miserable life. He stopped....  
  
The boy was gone.  
  
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Harry fell to his knees in the dark tunnel, Snape's last words echoing down from above. His heart was pounding, ears ringing loudly from the sudden switch from vicious yelling to near silence. How he'd been lucky enough to hide behind /that/ particular statue, he'd never understand, but he was pretty sure he'd thanked every lucky star in the sky despite. Just a few feet above, Harry could hear Snape yelling his name, boot heels scraping against the weathered stone. Leaning back against the tunnel's jagged wall, Harry pulled his knees up to his chest, eyes shut against the complete darkness. The yelling stopped after a moment, and he could hear Snape scuffling around a bit more, most likely searching for the secret passage.  
  
Pushing suddenly to his feet, Harry pulled his wand out of his robes and whispered the spell to light it. If Snape managed to get the passage open, he most certainly did not want to be around to see it, he thought, and began heading down the tunnel. The dim light banished only some of the shadows ahead, reflecting brilliantly off the trails of water leaking down the cave-like walls. After a few minutes of walking, he could hear the muffled sound of thunder, still rolling strong.  
  
Gritting his teeth fiercely as some emotion or another tried to rise up in his chest, Harry continued on, nearly stumbling on the rocky floor. He kept hearing Snape's furious voice, black eyes swirling with unimaginable hatred. 'Why do you call him Snape?' A voice inside his mind questioned, 'Shouldn't you be calling him /'Daddy/?' the voice taunted, and Harry growled deeply, fingers going numb from his fierce grip upon the wand.  
  
"/Shut up/." he hissed, walking faster down the tunnel. He nearly stumbled again, barely catching hold of the wall in time. Pausing, he struggled to catch his breath, fighting against the constriction in his chest. He'd told the truth, hadn't he? Wasn't it enough that he had to say it out loud, admit it to the man's face? He asked himself, jerking away front the wall and heading down the tunnel once again. He'd told the most painful truth he'd ever known, and he'd been yelled at for it, accused of playing some elaborate joke. Did Snape..oh, pardon, his /father/ actually believe that he'd do such a thing? Take a story that so obviously caused the man pain, and twist it into a lie for amusement? Did he hate him /that/ much? It seemed so, and to Harry, the idea of Snape hating him so much was now even more confusing and painful than it had ever been. Harry paused in his thoughts, brows furrowing. But then...he had a /right/ to hate him, didn't he? After all, he was a bastard child, an /accident/, even if Snape didn't realize that fact.  
  
"Stop it!" Harry growled, shaking his head to clear it from that line of thought. He would go to Hogsmeade and walk around for a while, to try and clear his mind. Maybe he'd even go to the post and send Sirius a letter, he'd hadn't written him in a while. Harry stopped the thought abruptly, gritting his teeth again. No, he wouldn't think about that. He would /not/ think about that! But the thought still arose, sliding in from the back of his mind like a drop of poison, eating away at his thoughts 'til it rose to the surface.  
  
What would Sirius think of him now....?  
  
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Snape barely refrained from cursing every soul he saw on his way toward the Headmaster's office, scaring a multitude of students nevertheless. The Headmaster had asked to see him after dinner, something about the 'Serpent's Children,' apparently. It was not a subject he was in the mood for at the moment, he was far too furious with the Potter brat to be coherent enough for proper planning. 'Forget detention,' Snape thought, shooting a deadly glare at a passing Hufflepuff, 'I'll devise some way to get that brat expelled,' Then at least he'd never have to stare at those eyes again, never see /her/ every time he looked at the boy. But more importantly, he wanted revenge. Potter had perhaps taunted him with the /most/ painful idea possible, struck a chord that sent his mind reeling with fresh pain, not felt since 15 years before. No one hurt him like that, no one was allowed to even /hint/ at a pain buried that deeply. And to be taunted with it, have it thrown in his face as some sort of joke after digging up memories out of /respect for his mother/. 'It's your own fault,' he reminded himself, growling deeply as he approached the Headmaster's door, 'You're the one that told /him/ you'd /raped his mother/, what did you expect? For it to be passed off as nothing? Not to come back and haunt you? You're a fool, Severus....a damned fool....' he thought darkly, and then straightened himself up, composing his face into a blank expression. He knocked on the door quietly, praying that the meeting would be quick.  
  
"Come in, Severus." Dumbledore said, his voice sounding particularly tired. Severus cocked an eyebrow in concern, and stepped through the door. Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, rubbing his forehead lightly. A letter sat on the desk in front of him, slightly tattered from being read and reread countless times. "Have a seat, Severus. Would you care for some tea?" he asked, motioning toward the chair across from the desk.  
  
"No thank you, Albus." Severus replied flatly, taking the proffered seat. "What have you discovered? You mentioned something about the Serpent's Children?" he asked, and Dumbledore nodded, turning in his chair to face him directly.  
  
"A woman by the name of Mrs. Templeton sent me this letter a few days ago, and then came to visit me herself. Some rather shocking news has arisen, concerning one of the students in this school." Dumbledore said, then sighed deeply and folded his hands atop the desk. Snape raised another eyebrow, watching him curiously.  
  
"You don't mean...that one of them is /here/, inside the school?" he asked incredulously. To his surprise, Dumbledore nodded, looking up at him over the rim of his half-moon spectacles.  
  
"Yes, one of our students is a Serpent's Child. Mrs. Templeton used to be a nanny for the student in question. I called you up here in the hopes that you would be able to shed some light on the situation, since you saw most of the women who were taken. I was hoping you could prove dear Mrs. Templeton wrong." Dumbledore said, his voice very low and tired. Something was seriously disturbing him, and Severus nearly forgot about his previous fury, now intensely curious. Dumbledore never got upset unless there was a /very/ good reason.  
  
"Which student is suspected?" he asked, quickly running over a list of the women who's been taken in his head. However, just as they hadn't five years ago, none of the women's last names matched with that of any student, with the obvious exception. There was no possible way he could have allowed one to slip through unnoticed, the Templeton woman was probably just an old crackpot.  
  
"Harry Potter." Dumbledore said, and Severus froze, eyes fixed on some point on the far wall.  
  
"I....don't believe I heard you right, Albus. Would you mind repeating that?" he said, blinking a few times. Surely he hadn't said /Potter/, there was no way that....  
  
"Harry Potter is believed to be the Serpent's Child, Severus, as ludicrous as it may seem." Dumbledore repeated, leaning his forehead against his folded hands. He was staring down at the desk, eyes fixed on the letter. "Mrs. Templeton worked for Lily Potter during the last month of her pregnancy, and then for several months afterward. Up until the time the Fidelis Charm was cast, actually." Dumbledore continued, and then sighed heavily. "Everything she told me fits perfectly, Severus, but I can't believe it....I just can't." he said, shaking his head. Severus remained perfectly silent, his eyes wide and fixed upon the Headmaster as if he'd never seen the man before in his life. Was this some sort of elaborate joke? He wondered. Had Potter talked to Dumbledore about their little conversation and somehow convinced him to join in on the prank? But Albus would never do such a thing, not with the knowledge of how painful the subject was, even if he didn't know the immediate reason.  
  
"Impossible." Severus scoffed, turning his head away, though the words were spoken without their usual conviction. "What proof did she have? Or was she simply begging favors?" Severus snapped, managing to curve his lips into a sneer.  
  
"Mrs. Templeton asked nothing of me, Severus. She came to me because of recent events in the news, with the families being murdered and all the suspicion about the Serpent's Children rising. She wanted me to protect Harry from the Ministry, in case they got the idea in their heads to finish the job they started so many years ago." Dumbledore said, then leaned back heavily in his chair. "She claimed to have helped with the birth, as James was off on a mission for me at the time. I remember that, myself." Dumbledore added, his eyes flashing with a hint of pain. "She said that Lily revealed some very disturbing news to her. She said that Lily told her she'd been raped by a Death Eater, and was too ashamed to tell James about it. I didn't believe her at first, but...." Dumbledore shook his head again, abruptly leaning forward and folding up the letter on the desk.  
  
"But?" Severus asked, barely managing to keep his voice and expression calm. However, he was anything but. 'Don't let it be true...,' he thought desperately, repeating the thought over and over again, 'Please, god....don't let it be true....'  
  
"She knew about the Serpent's Mark. She said that she saw it on Harry's forehead after he was born. That alone was the reason Lily told her about it, she didn't want anyone to know." Dumbledore continued, his hands folded awkwardly upon the desk. Then his expression turned grave, and he turned his eyes up from the desk. "Severus, was Lily Potter captured by the Death Eaters?" he asked, his eyes as cold and hard as a winter's day.  
  
Severus felt as if something had cracked inside, as if a wall deep within his mind had split right down the center. The Cruciatus itself was nothing in comparison to the searing pain that wrapped it's fingers around his heart, squeezing his chest so tightly that he forgot to breath. Tiny spots danced across his blurred vision, but he blinked fiercely and clenched his eyes, not caring what impression he gave Dumbledore.  
  
"Potter is not...." he began, but the words broke off, and he fell silent, eyes still clenched tightly shut.  
  
"Harry is not James' son, unless you can prove Mrs. Templeton wrong." Dumbledore replied, and Severus sucked in a deep, shaky breath, "Severus, are you alright?" Dumbledore asked, his voice tinged with concern. Severus shook his head lightly, clenching his jaws tightly. 'Potter isn't James' son...' he repeated in his mind, struggling to force the words into coherency.  
  
"How did she disguise it?" he asked, unable to completely keep the emotion from his voice.  
  
"Glamourie. Lily was an exceptional glamourie practitioner, I've never seen anyone better." Dumbledore said, then continued, "Severus, I know this is a painful subject for you...but I must know. Harry must be told and proper steps taken if it is the truth." he finished, and Severus leaned forward in the chair, fingers wound back across his scalp as he hung his head.  
  
"He already knows, Albus." he said, and heard the man make a slightly surprised sound.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked warily, and Severus gave a short, dry laugh.  
  
"He /said/ he'd learned it in Transfiguration....glamourie of course,......probably that bloody 'Revelo' spell Minerva's so fond of...." Snape rambled, laughing dryly again. "God....I'm such fool.....such a bloody fool....." he muttered, shaking his head.  
  
"Severus, please.....what are you on about? I need you to tell me what you know...." Dumbledore said, though his voice was soft with concern, he'd /never/ seen the Potions Master acting in even a remotely similar manner.  
  
"Yes, Lily was captured." Severus replied, winding his fingers tighter in his hair. It's true then, isn't it? He thought, taking another shaky breath. He felt sick, he doubted he'd be able to sit up even if he wanted to. It was not supposed to be this way, Lily wasn't supposed to bear a Death Eater's child, she wasn't supposed to live with that pain, with that horror. She was supposed to go back to the comfort of her husband, and then carry on with her life again. Had she hurt this much? He wondered. Had she nearly died from pain, when she saw that mark on her child's face? When she knew where he was from, how horrified her husband would be? No, for her it was probably worse, he wouldn't doubt that for a second. A thought arose again, taunting him again, 'He's not James' son.....'  
  
"You saw her? Why didn't you tell me before?" Dumbledore asked, though his voice was weak and tired, his suspicions confirmed.  
  
"Because I was the one who raped her." Severus admitted, sucking in several quick breaths through his clenched teeth. 'Potter's my.....oh god....he's my /son/.' he thought finally, and he heard Albus gasp sharply, and a tea-cup hitting the desk with a sudden 'clink.' He wanted to die, right then. With that thought crashing through his mind, slowly ripping him apart from the inside out, he wanted to curl up and die.  
  
"Severus...../you/ took her?!" Albus stammered in surprise, and Severus fought to keep himself from shaking, from screaming out a furious 'yes!' at the top of his lungs. He had to get out of here, he couldn't take any more questioning, he couldn't sit her with Albus' eyes boring into him.  
  
"God, Albus......he's my /son/.....he's /my/ son...." he whispered, struggling to drive the foreign phrase into his mind, to shatter the wall of pain and fear that rose at the idea. But he couldn't force himself to accept it, to believe that he'd caused Lily that much more pain, that just minutes before he'd been yelling at his /son/ in the hallway, after the boy had admitted possibly the most painful thing in his life. 'You're such a fool, Severus, such a damned, bloody fool.....' he told himself again, and abruptly stood up from the chair, whirling toward the door. "I'll be in my rooms, Albus." he said flatly, then stalked toward the door, desperate to be back down in his dungeons.  
  
"Severus!" he heard the Headmaster call, but he walked faster, practically taking the stairs at a dead run. He heard his name called again, and he continued to ignore it, struggling to banish all thought save that of his destination from his mind. The halls were nearly empty as he went, with any student who happened to be in sight practically diving for cover once they sighted him. Every corner he turned he felt a surge of fear clutch his heart, fear that he'd see that familiar pair of green eyes glinting in fear. He didn't know what he'd do if he saw him then, if he'd freeze in his tracks or ignore him, or even yell at him to get out of the bloody way. Confusion was the driving force behind his every thought, laced with pain as Lily's face appeared in his mind, twisted in agony. And then Potter's face, awash with terror yet firm in resolve, yelling out the truth at the top of his lungs. 'Perhaps it's a good thing your parents are not alive, Potter.' he remembered growling, 'They'd be loathe to call /you/ their son.'  
  
"MOVE!" Snape roared at a Slytherin who just happened to be standing in the hall. His rooms were just down another hallway, only that much further, he thought. 'Only that much further 'til what? Relief? Until you break down and wreck nearly everything in sight? Bloody lotta good that'll do, you can't run.' his thoughts continued, and he knew it was true. He couldn't hide from his thoughts, couldn't hide from Lily's face, from her screams, from Albus' words and his own. As he flew around the corner to the last hallway, another thought began repeating itself in his mind, over and over again, taunting and earth shattering at the same time.  
  
'Harry Potter is my son.....'  
  
---------------------  
  
Hogsmeade was nearly empty, Harry realized as he stood outside the candy shop. It wasn't surprising though, with the way the rain pounded down and muddied the streets, and the lightning flashed a little too close for comfort. It was also nearly pitch dark, with the clouds blocking the moonlight and only a dim glow escaping the shop windows. Harry really didn't care though, and he began walking down the streets, soaked robe clutched tightly about him. Only one other person had walked by so far, and that had been an old man with an umbrella, engrossed in a damp newspaper. The road was nearly a giant puddle, the cobblestones laced with mud and dotted with footprints near the shops. Harry left his own trail in the mud, his shoes making a rhythmic sucking sound each time he lifted a foot from the mud. Lightning flashed again, and the windows of the nearest shop rattled violently, and Harry noticed an odd shadow nearby. Turning slightly, Harry saw a boy about his age leaning against the side of the shop, his short brown hair slicked by the rain. What made Harry abruptly turn and continue walking was what he spotted on the boy's cheek. The Serpent's Mark. The boy didn't follow, and after about a block Harry began to slow down again, remembering Dumbledore's warning about leaving the school grounds.  
  
"I don't suppose he'd care if he knew I was one of them, though," he muttered to himself, wrapping his arms tight against the cold. He knew he should probably go back anyway, go talk to Dumbledore about the whole situation. But....he couldn't. He liked Dumbledore too much, he didn't want to see his face twisted with fear and shock, and possibly disgust. He didn't want the man to think of him as something less than 'Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.' Stopping, Harry lowered his head and stared at the muddy ground, mud caked wetly on his shoes. Was his fame the only reason Dumbledore liked him so much? Or was it because he had defeated the Dark Lord? Just a day before Harry would have scoffed at the idea, but now he was not so sure. It was no secret that Dumbledore had liked his....James, but was that the reason? So unto the father, so as to the son? Frowning, Harry started walking again, nearly colliding with a figure in the street ahead of him.  
  
"Well. If it isn't Harry Potter, out of his cage." a familiar voice taunted, and Harry froze. He looked up slowly, and stood face to face with the boy he'd seen near the Quidditch field.  
  
"You!" Harry said, and then backed up a few steps. The boy shook his head, wagging one finger in warning.  
  
"Nuh uh, you don't want to go trying to escape. Lord Voldemort wants his revenge, and we're going to help our master." he said, and Harry stopped. 'We're?' he thought, and turned slowly around. Behind him stood three more people his age, each with a small serpent marring some portion of their faces. "You're getting it now." the boy laughed, and Harry turned back to face him, his face twisted in an angry scowl.  
  
"Who says I'm going to /try/ and escape?" Harry said, his mouth curving in a half-smile. The boy stared at him in confusion for a moment, then it turned into a frown. Harry didn't wait to hear his next words, but rather dashed to his left at lightning speed, slipping smoothly between the two nearest shops.  
  
"AFTER HIM YOU DIMWITS!" the boy yelled at his companions, and Harry kept right on running past the buildings. He kept going off into the trees beyond, sloshing wildly in the muddy ground. There was a loud splashing coming from behind him, but he kept on running, struggling to increase his speed. Why had he been such an idiot? He should've just listened to Dumbledore, he thought. Lightning flashed above, and Harry saw the trees just ahead. Pulling his wand quickly from his waistband, he ran faster across a patch of firmer ground, clutching it like the lifeline it may prove to be.  
  
Behind him, his pursuers sped up too, their animated yelling muffled by the howling wind and constant thunder. 'What I wouldn't give for my invisibility cloak right now....' he thought, and sped past the first tree. It was much darker inside the forest than he'd expected, the ground was only lighted sporadically, with each flash of lightning in the sky above. He couldn't give up his position and use his wand to light the way, so he slowed down instead, changing his course by 90 degrees. Hopefully they'd be making enough noise to not hear him, and would continue to run straight instead of turning.  
  
Harry kept running, continuing on until his legs felt like jelly and he was forced to stop for rest and breath. He pushed up against a tree, hands on his knees. 'What a day this has been....' he thought, 'I run out of Potions class, yell at Professor Snape, and now I'm being chased by the Serpent's Children. Maybe I'll see Hagrid's lion while I'm out here,' he thought, and stood up straight, preparing to run again. He froze, eyes focused on the dark forest ahead of him. With the last lightning flash, he'd thought he'd seen something, several somethings actually. He waited silently, clutching the wand tighter. Something moved nearby, and the lightning flashed again.  
  
Only four feet away he saw them, the lightning reflecting on their pale faces. They stood perfectly still in the dark, eyes all fixed upon him hungrily. They didn't even look as if they were breathing, each standing there ghost-like in the dark, like the dead risen from their graves to claim the living. As the lightning flashed again, Harry saw that more had collected, with at least six now watching him from the trees ahead. Spells would be worthless, he realized, for held ready in each of their hands was a wand, held firm and raised. Harry pressed tighter up against the tree, watching in fear as they seemed to draw closer with each flash of lightning, as if they moved only in the dark. Something crunched from somewhere close, and Harry jerked in surprise when he saw a pale face leering from around the edge of the tree, rain dripping down the waxy skin. Harry inched away from the tree, wand raised against his chest. He had to do something, before they decided to attack...but what? The lightning flashed again, and he saw a dozen pairs of dilated eyes drawing nearer yet again. They were visibly moving now, and Harry had an idea. A chancy one, yes, but it /was/ something.....Before he could try anything however, there was a sudden spark of light as one of the figures whispered one, horrible word....  
  
"Crucio." they said, and Harry fell to the ground, screaming and thrashing in agony. It was as if for the briefest of moments, everything had gone white, every nerve ending alive with searing pain. He gritted his teeth, trying to fight off the pain, to ignore the fire soaring through ever limb, every fiber of his flesh. It seemed to last an eternity, wave after wave of pain that kept him on the ground, clawing at clumps of wet grass. Then, it stopped just as suddenly as it began. Struggling for breath, Harry rose to his knees, panting and battling the fuzziness in his brain. Now, he had to do it now, or he'd never live to see morning...it had to work.....  
  
"LUMOS SOLEM!!!" Harry bellowed, wand pointed directly into the midst of the Serpent's children. For a brief moment, he held his eyes tightly shut, listening as screams of pain rose from each and every one as they were blinded by the brilliant light. Then, he stood and ran as fast as he could, struggling violently with the pain still coursing through his muscles.. They wouldn't be out long, he'd only bought himself a little time. Maybe he could hide? He wondered, and paused, sighting a thick crop of bushes nearby. He dove behind them quickly, huddling his knees to his chest in a renewed flare of pain. What to do? What to do?! 'Think, Harry....think!' he commanded himself, rapping a fist angrily against his knee.  
  
Okay, what did he know about them? He asked himself, teeth gritted in thought. They obeyed Voldemort, okay, that didn't help much. The tattoo was just as worthless an idea. They were after /him/ because he was Voldemort's enemy, because he was 'Harry Potter.' He stopped, eyes wide as another crazy idea popped into his head. Yes, they were after him because he was Harry Potter, because they /recognized/ him. Or, more precisely, they recognized the disguise his mother had cast on him. 'Damn it, what was that spell we took notes on today?!' he asked, pounding his palm against his forehead. Then, he remembered, and prayed like a dying man that it would work. Turning his wand to point at himself, he cleared his throat and sat up straighter, clearing his mind.  
  
"Persona Terminus!" he said, attempting to say it precisely as McGonagall had. At first, he was positive it hadn't worked. There was no immediate flash of light, no loud noise or grotesque rending of the flesh. But then he felt an odd sensation, a vague tingling up across his skin. It grew stronger with each second, and then he heard a high pitched, almost metallic ringing. 'Hurry up,' he thought, 'If they find me I'm dead....god, they'll kill me!' And then there was a loud sound, like that of shattering glass. A bright flash of lightning cracked through the sky, and Harry saw it. A billion small specs of reflected light, suddenly flying off from him into the darkness. It was done.  
  
Harry quickly rose to his feet, not pausing to examine whatever had happened. Practically ripping the Gryffindor tie from his neck, he shoved it deep in a pocket. Then he bent down and scooped up a handful of mud, and caked it messily over the Gryffindor coat of arms on his robe's shoulder. There. If the spell had indeed worked, then they wouldn't have anything to connect him with their victim. Clutching his wand tightly, Harry headed back out of the forest, struggling to keep his pace slow enough to not be suspicious. He didn't see any more of the Serpent's children, and he sped up after a few minutes, careful to avoid the many roots and shrubs lining the forest floor.  
  
He didn't feel any different, he realized as he reached the edge of the forest. His glasses were gone, he noticed when he reached up to wipe a lock of /long/ black hair out of his face. He didn't mind the glasses much, but he didn't pause to explore any more. At least he knew the spell had worked, he thought, and began running back toward the nearby town.  
  
Slipping quietly back between a pair of buildings, Harry nearly turned around and ran back the other way when he looked out into the street. That boy, Malfoy's son, was standing in the middle of the street, looking off into the rain. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and began walking purposefully toward the candy shop, at the end of the block.  
  
"You there!" the boy called out as he walked past him, Harry turned slightly and gave him a cold look, hoping the boy would decide to leave him alone. "Have the others caught Potter yet?" he asked, and Harry remained silent for a moment, just then remembering that he himself had the Serpent's Mark.  
  
"No, they're still searching." he replied darkly, pretending to be annoyed with them. The boy bought it, nodding slightly before turning back to watch the street. Harry nearly cried out in relief, and headed back down the street toward the candy shop.  
  
He arrived a minute later, thankful to find the shopkeeper snoozing behind the counter as he brushed quickly past, desperate to be once again inside the dark tunnel. Before he knew it, he was down the hatch into the dark, following the light of his wand. His muscles were beginning to seize up, the aftereffects of the brief Cruciatus taking hold now that the adrenaline had worn off. He struggled to keep going, hobbling more dramatically as he neared the end of the tunnel. At last he made it to the end, collapsing to his knees against the wall. He could barely see for the pounding in his head, and the fierce throbbing that caused his muscles to twitch oddly. He couldn't move anymore, he realized, struggling even to remain on his knees. Leaning back against the wall, he closed his eyes, struggling valiantly to rise again, but succeeding only in falling further toward the ground. Finally, after relenting to the pain in his mind and his limbs, he curled up on the cold ground, knees drawn to his chest, and succumbed to the pitch black of unconsciousness.  
  
----End Chapter 7----  
  
Notes: *phew!* 


	8. Reaction

A Father's Sin 

By Severitus

Chapter 8---Reaction

...dark....

...quiet....

...and warm?

            Harry inhaled sharply at the revelation, struggling to drag himself up out of the state of half-consciousness he'd been drifting in for the past few minutes. Yes, he was definitely someplace warm, snuggled within a mound of blankets...but it didn't feel like _his_ bed. The sheets held a very familiar crisp scent, felt cool against his feverish skin, but he couldn't quite place it. His thoughts seemed muddled, fuzzy...still resisting wakefulness, and he couldn't remember clearly what had happened. There was something about a lion, and being chased...pain too, that was still fresh in his mind; but everything else was still elusive and distant. A firm voice suddenly sounded from someplace nearby, and Harry jerked in surprise, a few more memories sliding into focus.

            "Now Neville, what did I tell you about not messing with the bandages? How do you ever expect it to heal properly if you insist upon undoing my work?" Madam Pomfrey scolded, and Harry blinked in surprise. The Hospital Wing? But...hadn't he been in a ...tunnel of some sort? No...it was the secret passage, that was right...he'd been running from the Serpent's Children.

            "But it _itches_!" Neville complained, and the nurse made a subtle 'tsk'ing sound in her throat, and Harry could just hear the subtle 'snip snip' of a pair of scissors, most liking as she re-dressed Neville's wounds. 

            So it was definitely the Hospital Wing, but how had he gotten there? The only people at Hogwarts who knew of the tunnel were Ron, Hermione, the Weasley Twins, and himself. But there was no possible way that any of them could have known where he was…Wait. He remembered something, almost like a dream...waking momentarily while he was being carried, and someone's scratchy beard tickling his ear. Could it have been Hagrid or Dumbledore then? Then again, did it really matter? Stretching out beneath the covers, Harry cringed slightly at the sharp pain in his muscles and the nausea in his gut, and opened his eyes. He almost began to reach for his glasses, but stopped his hand halfway, drawing it slowly back against his chest. Another memory of the previous night had resurfaced, first the searing pain of the Cruciatus Curse, and then the glass-like shattering of the Glamourie spell. Harry bolted upright in an instant, though he immediately regretted the sudden movement, nearly crying out in fresh pain. Momentarily panicked, he stared wide-eyed out through a curtain of dark hair. He'd broken the Glamourie spell....

            Suddenly he felt very vulnerable, as if the deepest part of his mind had been violently ripped out and set on display. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around them. He didn't want to see what had changed, what his mother had so desperately tried to hide. He wanted to close his eyes and not see the long hair hanging in his face, to not feel the absence of his glasses upon his nose, but he couldn't stop himself. Almost unconsciously, his eyes drifted downward, fixing upon the arms wrapped around his knees. 

            His skin was pale, he noticed that immediately. The exposed flesh of his wrists and hands no longer bore the vague, light tan, but was now ghastly pale. Even though he imagined it was partially do to being sick at the moment, the thought still elicited an unconscious shiver. The fingers were longer as well, clutching painfully at the cloth of his pajamas around knees that were no longer knobbly. He didn't mind the last so much, but the discovery still caused his stomach to churn and bile to rise up in his throat. Leaning his forehead against his knees, he struggled to take several deep breaths, fighting to quell to turmoil in his stomach and the rising panic in his mind. 'Don't panic...don't panic...and don't throw up, please don't throw up...' he chanted to himself, clenching his teeth and tightening his throat. At that moment, he was very glad that someone had been considerate enough to draw the curtains around his bed.

            After a minute of calm breathing, he lifted his head and leaned his chin on his knees, staring at the thin wall of beige cloth surrounding the bed. Idly, he ran a hand back through his rain-dampened hair, unused to having so _much_ of it. Despite the tingly nausea the idea invoked, Harry realized that he _was_ curious. What did he look like now? Would anyone be able to recognize him at all? That thought brought a mix of emotions, he almost liked to idea of not being recognized, but the reason behind it buffered the feeling. Looking to the side, he saw a rectangular silver tray, topped with a glass of water and a damp washcloth sitting on the table to the left of the bed. The tray was polished brightly, truthfully reflecting the objects sitting upon it. 'Well,' Harry thought, drawing a deep, shuddering breath, 'Only one way to find out...' he thought, and reached over to move the cloth and glass.

            He nearly dropped the tray when he sighted his reflection for the first time. Hermione had been right, for there was a complete stranger looking back at him from the polished metal. When he lifted the tray again, the first thing he noticed, however, wasn't any change in appearance, but rather the small square of gauze placed precisely over his scar, hiding it entirely from view. The second was his eyes, which were still as blazingly green as they had ever been, albeit now with a bit of a slant to their positioning. His eyebrows were thinner and darker, arching smoothly above his eyes in a way he immediately recognized. Snape's were exactly the same, though they were constantly twisted angrily downward, always casting his eyes into even darker shadow. Harry shuddered, shutting his eyes briefly against the image. When he opened them again, his gaze flicked slightly downward, desperately hunting for some remnant of his former self. All of his features were sharper, he noticed, cheekbones well defined against the smooth line of his jaw. His nose was a tiny bit longer, not rounded and boyish as it had been, though thankfully it was still proportioned correctly and not crooked and hooked. To his surprise, that thought alone brought a significant amount of relief.

            And then he recognized _her_. In the shade of his eyes, the roundness of his chin, the shape of his nose, and finally in the way his hair curled into ringlets just at his shoulders. It all belonged to his mother, and brought with it a conflict of emotion. First there was a hint of pride, for never before had he recognized her anyplace but in his eyes. And then there was disgust and shame. Disgust because he also looked like the man who raped her, and shame because he was the product of the two; his evil mixed with her purity. And then there was the feature that outdid them all, that squashed his pride and lessened the disgust, and that was the Serpent's Mark. Standing out like a horrific testament to his reason for life, the mark, pure, obsidian black upon his pale flesh, sat directly between his eyebrows. The small, curved serpent was not even an inch in height, but it filled him with more horror than any of his other features combined. He suddenly felt nauseous again, both sickened and horrified by the mark that attested to the sin of his creation. His life, every pain and pleasure, existed solely because Snape had raped his mother, forged in a moment of relentless pain and shame. The mark seemed to drive it all into startling clarity, standing out from within a mixture of features. His mother's eyes, and her attacker's face, the two eternally linked within him.

            The tray slid from his fingers, falling softly to the bed with a dull 'thump.' In the next instant, Harry was on his knees beside the bed, emptying the meager contents of his stomach into a tin trashcan. After he'd coughed up the last, he stayed kneeling, his hair hanging about his face like a bed curtain. So...it was true then, he thought, leaning back from the trashcan. God...it was all _true_, every word. He was a Serpent's child, bred to serve Voldemort. Snape had raped his mother. He wasn't Harry Potter,' the Boy Who Lived, beloved son of Lily and James. No, he was Harry, the bastard child of Severus Snape, the _accident_ that had somehow managed to defeat the Dark Lord. It was true...Snape was his father. Snape hated him, and he was his father. It was all _true_....

            Leaning forward onto his hands, Harry hung his head, struggling desperately to breath past the tightness in his throat and to stave the burning in his eyes. But he couldn't, he could feel the hot trail of tears escaping his tightly shut eyes, and failed to still the violent trembling as he fought tooth and nail to keep from sobbing. Sucking in shuddering breath after breath, it only seemed to worsen, as if a massive force was welling up inside, desperate to be free. It had been years since he'd cried, since he'd hidden beneath the blankets in his cupboard and sobbed as quietly as he could. Even now he couldn't completely free his tears, couldn't truly let go of what had been.

            A warm hand suddenly settled on his back, and Harry sucked in a surprised breath. The frail fingers rubbed gently back and forth, and he raised his head, turning to look. "It's alright, Harry," an old, gentle voice whispered, and Harry bowed his head again. Dumbledore knew, then...but what would he think? Would he be kicked out of school, or be turned over to the Ministry? Would Dumbledore be disgusted, ashamed that the esteemed Harry Potter was truly _nothing_? Sucking in another shaky breath, he squeezed his eyes shut, again struggling vainly to stave the tears, to hold off the sobs caught deep in his throat. The warm hand moved upward, and grasped his shoulder, squeezing it firmly. Harry tensed, and then began to relax as the thumb moved against the back of his neck, gently rubbing. "It's alright, child, you need to let it all out. You've earned to right to cry," the voice said, and the hand began coaxing him backward, toward Dumbledore's kneeling figure. The Dursleys had always yelled at him for crying, for showing any sign of weakness or emotion. It was strange to have someone encouraging it, patiently waiting for tears to fall. The hand seemed to give off comforting warmth, welcoming him into a pair of waiting arms. He loved the feeling, needed it desperately; needed someone to simply _be_ there. His whole body felt as if it had gone limp, and he allowed himself to be guided gently, collapsing back into a warm embrace. Frail arms slid tightly around him, one wrinkled hand directing his head against a welcoming shoulder.

            Harry sunk into it suddenly, burying his face within the soft, velvet folds of the robes, clutching desperately at the loose material draped around the arms that held him. Dumbledore began whispering gently, rubbing one hand slowly up and down his back.

It was if something shattered inside then, as if a great wall had crumbled, releasing the vast flood behind. The tears flowed down his cheeks, darkening the soft velvet robes, and he began to sob. Burying his head tighter, shrinking against the comforting figure, he let it all out. All of his fear, his pain, his anger and frustration, he let it all out in a wash of tears and quiet, desperate sound. And Dumbledore continued to hold him, running one willowy hand through his hair, and all the while whispering 'It's alright, everything will be alright...' It seemed as if he cried for hours, embraced by the one person he feared rejection from the most. But then the tears slowly died away, the sobs quieting down to a whisper, and the hand that had been in his hair was holding a warm rag, gently wiping away the salty tears. When the rag was set aside, Harry pulled back, looking away in shame. He rose and sat back on the edge of the bed, face hidden by his hair. Dumbledore rose a moment later, but Harry didn't look up. There was still a bit of mud caked deep under his nails, he noticed, in addition to a few vivid crimson scratches across the backs of his hands, from running blindly through the forest.

            "How are you feeling?" the old wizard asked after a moment, not bothering to straighten his rumpled robes. 

            "Okay," Harry mumbled, still staring down at the floor. "Headmaster, I'm sorry..." he began, but Dumbledore stopped him short.

            "Don't apologize for releasing what you feel, Harry. It is not a thing to be ashamed of. You've been through more these past few days than any child rightfully should be, you have every right to cry," he said, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Harry slowly raised his head, casting a wary gaze toward Dumbledore's expression. He didn't want to see rejection there, to see a hint of disgust or shame on the wizard's face, and he didn't. Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling with a smile, his eyebrows turned in genuine concern. 

            "How did you know it was me?" Harry asked after a moment, absently reaching up to shove a lock of hair back behind his ear.

            "I found out about your true parentage only yesterday, myself, Harry, but that scar of yours would have given you away in any event. Ms. Granger was quite helpful on the matter as well. She came up to my office yesterday, worried after you didn't show up for dinner or in the common room afterward. It was she and Mr. Weasley who actually found you, with the aid of a certain map, I believe," Dumbledore said, smiling at the last. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, Harry, what happened? I'm afraid you're the only one who knows what transpired during your brief disappearance," he said, his face knitting with a bit of worry. Slowly, Harry nodded. He wasn't anxious to relive the previous day's venture, but he was willing. He told him everything about hiding from Snape in the hall, about running from the Serpent's Children, and finally about the Glamourie spell. Dumbledore's eyes never drifted once during the whole tale, and by the time he'd finished, he looked both worried and, strangely, relieved.

            "So...they've already been taught at least one of the Unforgivable Curses, then," Dumbledore mused, scratching his chin in thought, "And they apparently can't sense one another, as they obviously didn't recognize you as the same person after you removed your mother's spell...Brilliant idea, by the way," he added, casting Harry a bright smile, "but they do seem to be congregating nearby, which suggests that they're trying to find a way through the school's barriers. And that, I fear, is most certainly not a good thing...."

            "Pardon me, Headmaster...but you said that my mother cast the spell? I assumed she had, but...could you tell me about it? I mean, it felt so _real_...I didn't think Glamourie could do that..." Harry asked, and Dumbledore paused in his thoughts, turning to face him.

            "Ah yes, I had a feeling you'd be wondering about that. It was indeed your mother who cast the spell. I'm not sure if Minerva has gotten that far into the subject yet...but I suppose a short explanation won't hurt," he said, and cleared his throat in a very teacherly sort of way, "You see, Harry, Glamourie doesn't just fool your eyes, it is an illusion that affects _all_ of the senses; touch, taste, smell, sound, hearing...the perception of each is warped by the spell," he paused a moment, mouth twisting slightly in thought, "I'm not sure if you know much about your mother's history, so I'll go ahead and explain a bit of that to you as well. Your grandmother came from Ireland, the birthplace of Faerie Magic, and thus, Glamourie. The Fae folk taught Glamourie to the wizards and witches of Ireland many hundreds of years ago, and to this day it is the most common form of magic there. Your grandmother was an extremely powerful practitioner of it, and she passed that precious knowledge on to your mother. The spell she cast on you was very powerful, it caused even you to take the illusion as truth. Do you understand?" he asked, and Harry nodded after a moment. It _did_ explain a lot, like his glasses and impaired vision. And strangely, it also explained why his hair had always been so ceaselessly untidy, even after multiple choppings at the mercy of Aunt Petunia's scissors.

            "So...um..." Harry began nervously, "Do you think maybe...you could turn me back? Please?" he asked, and Dumbledore sighed tiredly.

            "Truth doesn't like to be hidden, Harry. It will always find a way to show itself," he said, his eyes grave and serious. But then he softened somewhat, and reached up to pat Harry lightly on the back, "But if that is what you want, then I will. But not until you've recovered and have had some time to think over everything," he answered, and rose slowly from the bed.

            "Why not?" he asked. Although he didn't mind his 'true' look, he was anxious to be back to normal. As much as he liked looking more like his mother (and not having knobbly knees or poor vision), he didn't like seeing Snape in his reflection as well.

            "Well, I fear Poor Poppy would have a heart attack if one of her patients suddenly looked completely different," he replied, chuckling lightly, and added when Harry's hand drifted toward his hidden scar, "Yes, I thought it best in order to avoid any questions, at least until you and Severus have had a chance to talk," he added, and Harry cringed slightly.

            "He knows?" Harry asked quietly.

            "Yes, I spoke with him yesterday after dinner, and your relation came to light then," Dumbledore answered, and Harry hung his head, hiding his face with his hands. "Oh, before I go...I brought you something to help you pass the time," Dumbledore said, and Harry looked up again, curious. Reaching deep inside a pocket of his robes, Dumbledore pulled out a very scraggly, worn, and decrepit looking old book. The title had nearly faded from the spine, and the covers hung loosely from their bindings.

            "What's that?" Harry asked, his lip curling slightly at the sight.

            "This would be one of my favorite books, I've had it since I was about your age," Dumbledore answered, dusting the cover lovingly before passing it to Harry, "It may look a little unpleasant on the outside, but I think you'll be surprised by what you find on the pages within. And now, I must attend to some business. I will talk to you soon, Harry," Dumbledore said, and left quietly through the curtains, not even waiting for a thank you.

            The book really was in a bad condition, Harry thought as he stared at the cover. It was stained and threadbare it spots, with many of the pages sticking out beyond the others. Setting it aside on the table, Harry lifted his legs back up on the bed and leaned back into the pillows, looking up toward the smooth ceiling. Dumbledore hadn't once mentioned anything about being kicked out, and hadn't acted any differently toward him than normal. Harry smiled slightly, crossing his arms back behind his head. It was a great relief that Dumbledore was still the same kind, odd old wizard, even after knowing that his student was born to serve the Dark Lord. Maybe things could get somewhat back to normal after all...and maybe Professor Snape would just ignore the whole thing. Harry paused, frowning slightly. How _would_ he react when he saw Sn--...his _father_ again? Would the man be even worse than before, nastier now that he could claim Harry as his? Or, as far-fetched as the idea sounded, would he lighten up? Harry wasn't sure which idea he preferred. Rolling over on his side, Harry blew a strand of hair out of his face. The idea of having a living father was still alien, even excepting who it was. And truthfully, Harry had now idea how he was supposed to act either. 

-----------------------------------------------------

Fool.

What did you expect?

Didn't you even _think_?

No...of  _course_ not. You never do, do you?

_Now_ look what you've done. 

            Severus Snape leaned his hands against the mantle, staring vacantly into the dying fire. He'd only left his rooms long enough to teach the days classes, and now he was back down in the dungeons, ignoring the hunger twisting in his stomach and the mound of paperwork on the desk in the corner.  He hadn't slept either, but had spent the entire previous night sitting by the fire, staring deep into the flames. Simple things like sleep and paperwork could wait, there were more pressing matters occupying the entirety of his thoughts.

            He was afraid, and angry; along with a multitude of other emotions that he couldn't even begin to unravel. Yes, he'd been afraid when Albus had asked him to return to the Dark Lord, he'd been terrified when he'd set foot in Albus' office with the intention of becoming his spy all those years ago...but this vastly different. This time he wasn't afraid of the Dark Lord's wrath, or of Dumbledore's shame...this time he was afraid of a certain pair of green eyes. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, what he was supposed to feel...or if he was even supposed to feel anything. All he knew was that he was responsible for all the pain and suffering in yet one more life, for all the shame, fear, and humiliation experienced by yet another human being; by his son. The boy was alive because of him, was a constant target of the Dark Lord because of him, and now had everything he'd known ripped from him...all because his father had tried to be _righteous_. 

            Laughing shortly, Severus pulled away from the fireplace, turning to pace in front of the flames. Had he even considered the possibility so many years ago, when he'd chosen to rape his former friend? Hadn't he even thought that there _might_ be a chance that something would come of it? Or had he just imagined that his good intentions would prevent all that, and that beyond the memory, nothing of that night would remain? Fool...you _did_, didn't you? He chided himself, growling mentally in anger. Bloody idiot. You tried to lessen her pain, and what do you do? You cause her more of it; make her live with the knowledge that her son was a _Death Eater's_, force her to give life unwillingly. Oh yes, _splendid_ job, well done indeed. And yet, that's not all is it? You spend four years yelling, humiliating, and thoroughly hating a child that turns out to be _yours_. Oh yes, and not to mention the fact that in the past two days, you jumped twice at the chance to rub his nose in the fact that his parents were dead? And then, like the bloody idiot you are, when he tries to tell you to truth, you virtually bite his head off while his entire world is crumbling around his ears. 

            Falling heavily into a chair before the fire, Severus leaned his head in his hands, massaging his violently throbbing temples. And he wondered, what was he supposed to do now? _Apologize_? Stroll up to Gryffindor Tower and say, 'I'm sorry I raped your mother, and that your entire life has been a lie...can we forget about the whole thing now?' What was he _supposed_ to do? He didn't know anything about being a father, his own hadn't been much of an example. He didn't even know if he should acknowledge that anything had happened at all. But then...you didn't just discover that you have a son and then ignore the whole thing. No...things would change, one way or another. Hell, he couldn't figure out how he felt about the boy now let alone how he would act, or what he would say. 

            There was a sudden, cautious knocking on the door to his rooms, and Severus jerked slightly, casting an annoyed gaze toward the door. "What?" he snapped, rubbing his temples again.

            "May I come in, Severus?" the Headmaster's voice asked, and Severus sighed, dropping his hands to the arms of the chair.

            "Come in," he replied reluctantly. He knew precisely why the Headmaster had come, but it wasn't subject he was anxious to discuss. The door creaked quietly as it swung open, allowing Albus to walk slowly into the room, his face drawn into a concerned frown. Severus didn't look up as the old man sat down in the opposite chair, glasses sparkling in the dim firelight.

            "How are you doing, Severus? You haven't been up for any of the meals today," Albus said, and Severus snorted indifferently.

            "How do you think I'm doing?" he replied with a sneer, and Albus sighed heavily. "Is there something in particular you wanted, Albus?" he asked icily, but the Headmaster made no indication of having taken offense.

            "Yes...it has been discovered that a group of the Serpent's Children are congregating either in or near Hogsmeade, most likely to try and find a way past the school's warding spells. I'm afraid they've already been versed in at least one of the Unforgivables," he said, and Severus looked up in surprise.

            "So soon?!" he asked, former worries temporarily forgotten, "Do we have a confirmation of that?" he asked, leaning forward in his chair, and Albus lowered his head slightly.

            "We have a witness, unfortunately," Albus replied, reaching up to straighten his glasses. Severus watched him curiously, eyebrows knitted in confusion. Something was stalling the older man, preventing him from telling him something outright....

            "What is it, Albus?" he prompted, and the older man sighed again.

            "Harry's the witness," he said, folding his hands beneath his chin. "He was pursued by a few of the Serpent's Children yesterday night outside of Hogsmeade, one of them cast the Cruciatus on him," Albus continued, eyes focused carefully on his companions face. For a moment, not a muscle twitched. Then, the eyes filled with a strange sort of confusion, and he sat back in the chair, eyes sliding out of focus.

            Severus didn't reply at first. He was too..._confused_ to reply. Potter...his _son_ had been injured, but...he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about it. First there was a hint of anger, definitely, for what _had_ the boy been thinking running around Hogsmeade after dark, _especially_ after having been warned about the loyal Serpent's Children? And secondly...there was a hint of worry, mixed with a swirl of other thoughts and emotions that he couldn't place a finger on. "What was he doing out there?" he settled on asking.

            "I won't tell you the reason, that's between you and him. We found him unconscious in a secret passage late last night, Poppy is going to keep him in the hospital wing for a few days," Albus replied, and Severus' eyes widened slightly. A secret passage? He thought, of course...through the statue. Struggling to keep his face blank, he clenched his teeth tightly, and squeezed his eyes shut. He'd yelled at the boy, probably frightened him so badly that he'd gone running off to Hogsmeade. And now he had yet _another_ thing to feel guilty for....

            "There's no need, Albus. I know the reason," he replied, and his eyes snapped open when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Albus was standing next to him, watching him with concerned eyes. 

            "Talk to him. Neither one of you will survive the week if you don't work something out...I promise to do what I can for the both of you," Albus said, and stood back slowly. Severus cracked a weary half smile, reaching up to rub his temple yet again.

            "Thank you, Albus," he said, and the old man nodded, heading toward the door. He stopped just inside the doorframe, turning a mischievous smile back over his shoulder, "he looks just like you, you know," he added, and then slipped out the door and away from Severus' surprised expression. He shook his head with a short laugh and rose from the chair, heading over to put out the fire. As he stood before the last flickering flames, he furrowed his eyebrows in determination. He _would_ speak to the boy tomorrow, if not just to see if he would end up hating him all over again or simply stare wordlessly. As to what he would say? He still didn't have a clue. There was too much guilt, shame, and pain roiling within his mind for anything to seem sensible enough, but he had no doubt that he _would_ say something, even if it happened to be, "Have you finished that three-page report yet?"

---End Chapter 8----


	9. Greasy Bastard

Notes: Um....This is really short, not deep or angsty in the least, and well.....it's just /there/. This chapter and 10 will both be short, and I promise 10 (the confrontation one) will be up earlier tomorrow instead of at night. I separated it into two chapters because it was /way/ too much of a tone switch between the two; one being kinda light and the other tense as hell. And I'm sooooo sorry for missing my deadline! Blame Steven King! I was watching Rose Red!  
  
special thanx will be in the next one....since I don't like this chapter. Too simplistic, but I couldn't think of anything else.....  
  
and thus; on to the lighter interlude!  
  
Chapter 9---Greasy Bastard  
  
Harry awoke to his second morning in the hospital wing with the rather strange feeling that he was being watched. He stayed perfectly still, hoping that whoever it was would give themselves away. After a minute, he nearly smiled when two familiar voices started talking in hushed tones from next to the bed.  
  
"Come /on/ Hermione!" Ron's voice pleaded, and there was an odd squeaking sound that Harry imagined came from Ron's shoes as he bounced up and down impatiently.  
  
"I said /no/, Ron. He'll tell you when he wakes up if he wants to." Hermione answered curtly, and Harry could nearly hear her crossing her arms in stubborn refusal.  
  
"Oh, come on! I already guessed /part/ of it!" he persisted, and Harry cracked open his eyes to watch the two. Hermione was seated in one of the hospital chairs, legs and arms both crossed as she did her best to look resolute. Ron was standing in front of her, and he really /was/ bouncing on his heels.  
  
"Then you can guess the rest of it! I'm /not/ saying a word." Hermione persisted, and Ron sunk his shoulders.  
  
"Just a clue then? A little, tiny, reaaaaly itsy-bitsy clue?" Ron pleaded, and Harry couldn't stop himself from laughing. In the next instant, Ron was sprawled on the floor and Hermione had to latch onto the other chair to keep from falling backward. Sitting up against his pillows, Harry watched with a half-smile as the two collected themselves, each still pale and wide-eyes with surprise. Harry stretched and yawned briefly, glad that much of the pain in his muscles had gone away.  
  
"Bloody hell....don't /do/ that!" Ron pleaded, struggling to slow his racing heart. Then Ron blinked suddenly and sat up, staring at him in amazement. "It really /is/ you, isn't it?" he said in disbelief, "You even sound different...."  
  
"Yeah." Harry replied, nervously running a hand back through his hair .  
  
"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked suddenly, and Harry shrugged. He was actually feeling better, had been ever since Dumbledore's visit the previous day. Afterward it had felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, some of the confusion and fuzziness muddling his thoughts finally cast aside.  
  
"Better. Madam Pomfrey won't let me go 'til tomorrow, though." he answered, cringing slightly at the memory of the woman's angry lecture on not wandering around in the rain. "Thank you, for finding me down in the tunnel." he added, and his two friends looked away in embarrassment.  
  
"The map was Ron's idea, really..." Hermione muttered, and Ron gave her a friendly shove on the shoulder.  
  
"So? I wouldn't have even known it was Harry if you hadn't told me." Ron replied, and Hermione stared down at her feet nervously. "So...um....what /happened/?!" Ron asked uneasily, though his voice rose in disbelief toward the end.  
  
"How much do you know?" Harry asked, running a hand back through his hair again. He couldn't seem to stop doing that, it still felt so /strange/....  
  
"Just that you're...um....a Serpent's Child, really....because of the tattoo." Ron added, and Harry nodded, absently tracing a finger over the Mark.  
  
"You don't have to say anything if you don't want too...." Hermione added, nervously playing with her hands. Harry gave a small smile, leaning heavily back against the pillows.  
  
"It's alright, Hermione. Dumbledore came and spoke to me yesterday, I think I've finally accepted it....sort of, anyway." Harry said. It was still painful to think about, but at least he was no longer denying it.  
  
"Ok then, so....what on earth /happened/ to you?! I mean....not that the new look's bad or anything, it just kinda reminds me of...." Ron said quickly, his words dying off toward the last.  
  
"Snape?" Harry offered, and Ron turned beat red, suddenly fiddling with the edge of his robes.  
  
"Well....yeah." Ron said as he looked away, and Harry smiled slightly at his friend's nervousness.  
  
"Professor Snape is my father, Ron." Harry replied, and Ron froze, mouth frozen wide with a reply. Slowly, Ron turned to face him, eyes wide and mouth still open.  
  
"Did you just say....that /Snape/ is your /father/?" Ron asked calmly, and Harry nodded, unable to keep his lips from twitching into an amused smile. Hermione had her head turned to the side, obviously struggling against a smile herself. "Holy....you /can't/ be serious......You? Snape's /son/?!" Ron said, turning to pace beside the bed. He was shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "But....," he began, and then flopped down in the chair. "oh hell....,"he muttered.  
  
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Ron...." Harry said, casting his eyes down in apology.  
  
"Nah....it's cool." Ron managed to mutter. He was blatantly staring at Harry now, turning his head this way and that to look at him, "But /Snape/?! I'm sorry, Harry, but that's just.....freaky. /Really/ freaky...."  
  
"Now /that's/ and understatement." Harry replied, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms loosely.  
  
"Y'know what I mean....You're /nice/, and he's....well....."  
  
"A greasy bastard?" Harry offered, and Ron's face reddened a second time.  
  
"I didn't say it! I did /not/ say it!" Ron protested, shaking his head vigorously.  
  
"It's alright, Ron. I may not know exactly how to feel about him, but he is a greasy bastard." Harry replied, casting a gaze to the hands folded in his lap.  
  
"Have you two....talked?" Hermione asked warily, casting him a questioning gaze. Harry looked up and shook his head, cringing slightly at the thought.  
  
"No...the last time Snape 'talked' to me was just before I escaped from him down the tunnel. I tried to tell him about....you know....and he sort of flipped out, thought I was mocking him or something I guess." Harry said softly, sliding further down against the pillows.  
  
"So that's why you ran off...." Ron muttered, and after a moment, raised his eyes to meet Harry's own indifferent gaze. "Listen, I'll try my best to get used to this all....but it's gonna be tough." he said, and Harry gave him a thankful smile.  
  
"I know, and thank you." he said, and then sat up a little straighter, his eyes flashing mischievously. "Now......about that wart of Draco's...." he began.....  
  
-----------  
  
A/N: again, ten will be up sometime during the day, I'm writin' it right now! And I apologize for this chapt., but Ron needed to find out /sometime/... 


	10. Face to Face

Notes: HAHAHAHAHA! well...actually this isn't all that tense, but hey, that's how it came out. Hope ya like!  
  
Special Thanks: To Sev's Gurl, for being kind enough to dedicate a chapter of her story to me, to Trisana Granger, for linking her super-cool site to my story, to Amber Brown, for liking my stories so much : ), and to FW Viper, for the cool logo! Thank you soo much to everybody that reviewed! I was honestly shocked that anyone even bothered with the last chapter...so thank you!  
  
Dedication:: This Chapter is dedicated to Dumbledore's True Love, and Mayleesa, the ultimate tag team of reviewers. I swear, every time I read your reviews I fall out of my chair.....Thanks, guys!  
  
A Father's Sin  
  
by Severitus  
  
Chapter 10 ----Face to Face  
  
The doors to the Hospital Wing creaked softly as Severus pushed them open, stepping cautiously through the doors. Struggling to steel his nerves, he ran a hand back through his hair, clenching his teeth in determination. For a moment he stayed perfectly still, standing just inside the room with his hand still on the door. He wanted to turn back around, maybe come back tomorrow instead. A soft sound came from somewhere in the room, and he paused, half-way turned back out the door. Off in a far corner, Poppy had fallen asleep in a chair, near a bed where a dozing Neville Longbottom lay, half-hidden by the bed curtains. And nearer, on the opposite side of the room, lay the only other occupied bed in the Wing, almost completely hidden by the curtains.  
  
Almost in a daze, he found himself approaching slowly, eyes focused on the curtains as if he were headed toward a dragon's lair rather than a sick child. Then again, Severus was quite sure that he'd rather walk wand- less into some dark cavern than be /here/. At least he would've known what to expect from a dragon. But underneath all of his fear and anxiety, there was an undeniable curiosity. Albeit, it was the same sort of curiosity that urged adventurers toward the jagged maw of a hungry dragon, but it was there nonetheless. Would the boy be terrified? Angry? Lost in a pit of despair? And what about the glamourie.....would he see Lily's eyes staring back at him in fear and hatred yet again? He cringed, hoping desperately that he wouldn't find terror there. Hatred he could deal with, he even expected it. But....fear? Normally that wouldn't be a problem either, but......now that the glamourie spell had been removed, the boy probably looked more like Lily than ever before. And there was another thought tainted with fear and curiosity that was taunting him.....the fact that he'd be seeing something of himself in the boy as well. He didn't know what to think of that....whether it would send him off on another tangent of self-loathing for forcing Lily to create a life with /him/, or if he'd rage at the boy that had no choice in the matter.  
  
Another sound, almost like a whimper came from inside the curtains, and Severus stalled his thoughts. Taking a deep breath and fixing his face into a blank expression, he stepped forward and quietly pulled aside the curtain. The instant he sighted the figure within, his expression faltered, sliding into one of awe and slight fear. The boy was curled beneath the sheets, an old book sprawled open on the bed beside him. He was twitching slightly, face shifting back and forth between sleep, fear, and pain. Severus was frozen, hand still clutching the edge of the curtain. He stared unblinkingly, watching the fine-featured face as it changed in uneasy sleep. There was some sort of strange emotion rising deep in his chest as he studied the face, recognizing his own features blended with Lily's. He felt his lips twitching slightly, almost managing to curl into a slight smile. Was that /pride/ he was feeling? He wondered, was he actually /proud/ to see himself reflected, to know that /this/ boy was /his/? Grimacing, he narrowed his eyes, he could not allow himself to think like that. He had no right to feel proud for /anything/ that came of the sin he'd committed, even considering /who/ the boy was. This boy had defeated the Dark Lord, had been the youngest Quidditch player in over a century, this boy was a hero....and he was /his/. /His/ son...not James'. Severus struggled desperately to banish the smug pride that arose at the thought, but he couldn't stop it. For the first time, he was staring at his son...  
  
"No..." a muffled cry rose from the bed, and Severus instantly whirled behind the curtains, daring to spy from around the edge. The boy sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a grimace. Eyes slanted just like his own..... Almost absently the boy reached out toward the bedside table, then seemed to freeze in the motion, drawing his hand back again. Instead, he idly propped the pillows behind himself and sat back against them, opening the ragged old book in his lap. Severus watched as he read a page or two, still battling his own rampant thoughts. The Serpent's Mark stood out clearly on his pale flesh, a blatant reminder of /how/ he'd been conceived. Severus struggled to cast aside the wave of guilt that rose at the sight of the Mark, unconsciously reaching out to clutch a hand around his own forearm. He'd chosen to bear a similar mark that tied him to the Dark Lord, but his son hadn't been given the choice. Then, he clenched his jaw and stepped cautiously forward, standing completely unnoticed from his place at the foot of the bed.  
  
"Nightmare?" he asked suddenly, surprised that he'd been able to keep his voice calm and clear. He was sure the boy jumped nearly six inches then, the book flying to lay sprawled near his feet.  
  
"Professor?!" Harry asked in shock, his eyes wide and panicked as he struggled to calm himself. His eyes fixed on the dark, towering figure at the end of the bed, he leaned forward slightly and snatched up the book, absently stuffing the few loose pages back within the covers.  
  
"Do you have them often?" Snape asked, and Harry stopped, the book clutched protectively to his chest. It seemed as if the tension in the room had escalated the moment Snape had said the very first word, and now it hung plainly between them. The air practically vibrated with it, nearly visible in tiny lightening bolts.  
  
"Er....yes, actually....since last year." Harry managed, quickly swallowing the lump in his throat. He looked down at his hands, unable to meet the cool, black gaze and blank expression fixed on him attentively. Snape didn't reply, but turned away slightly, walking a few steps to the side. Looking up, Harry watched him curiously, hoping that he'd just come to ask about the Serpent's Children....or even to demand overdue homework. Snape's face remained perfectly blank, but after a moment of inspection, Harry discovered that the man certainly wasn't calm. His skin was more pale than sallow, and there was a light sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. 'He's nervous!' Harry realized, taking comfort in the fact that at least he wasn't the only one who wanted desperately to bolt out the door.  
  
"I want to apologize." Snape said suddenly, shattering the silence, and Harry jerked in surprise, "For yesterday. I should not have yelled." he continued, and nervously ran a hand back through his hair. At least he'd said something, he thought, and at least the boy hadn't run away screaming. He /did/ have his mother's eyes though, he could feel them fixed on his face even then. That discovery somehow made him even more uneasy, the apology even harder to make.  
  
"Don't worry about it." Harry managed quietly, looking down at the bed, "I shouldn't have said anything....." he added quietly, and shrunk back in surprise when Snape whirled around suddenly, eyes wide with mild shock.  
  
"And /why/ do you believe you should not have said anything?!" Severus asked sharply, instantly regretting the tone of his voice. Harry froze, lowering his head even further.  
  
"Because you hate me, and knowing that I'm you're son....well..." he said quietly, and with surprising calm, as if he'd completely accepted the fact that his father hated him. Severus stared at him wide eyed, disbelieving his ears. The boy was afraid that he'd ruined /his/ life?! That he'd be ashamed to have him as a son? He'd expected it to be somewhat the opposite....with P--no, /Harry/ ranting and raving about how his own life was ruined, not the other way around. Sighing deeply, he wandered over to one of the chairs and sat down heavily, staring down at the floor just as Harry was staring at the bed.  
  
"I don't hate /you/, Harry." he said finally, and the boy looked up abruptly.  
  
"But..." he began, and Severus silenced him by looking up suddenly and meeting his gaze.  
  
"I hate what you remind me of, what seeing you forces me to remember." he finished, and the boy continued staring at him in disbelief. After a moment, he lowered his eyes to the bed again, gaze unfocused.  
  
"You really didn't want to hurt her, did you....?" Harry said, allowing the idea to slowly sink in. He couldn't seem to be angry at Snape for it now, not like he had been after their 'talk' down in the dungeons. Now, he was simply too afraid.  
  
"She was a friend, Harry. Would /you/ be willing to hurt Granger or Weasley?" he said, and Harry blanched, finally understanding just what kind of pain Snape had been going through for the past fifteen, and especially the past four years. He /couldn't/ imagine ever hurting his friends, ever being put in a position between that and death. But then it had probably been even more complex than that...after all, Snape didn't just have his own life to worry about, he'd been a spy at the time. The man had been forced to choose between continuing his invaluable role against Voldemort, dying, or violating a childhood friend. No wonder he'd yelled at him the other night....  
  
"No....I wouldn't." Harry answered, letting the book slowly slide from his white knuckled grasp. It was so strange to be sitting there with Snape without either one of them seething with anger. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about it all yet, how he felt about his father. He didn't really like him, that much he knew, but it wasn't a persistent sort of dislike. Instead it was more of a fear of being humiliated, yelled at, or accused of some imagined trespass. Now however, his feelings were mostly blank, excepting his mild terror, nervousness, and an odd, desperate sort of feeling. He believed Snape when he said he didn't hate him, knew it was the truth, but he still feared it. He didn't want to be hated by his father, have the man be ashamed of him. And while he knew he needn't fear the former any more, he still wasn't sure about the later.  
  
"You do realize, Harry....that I have absolutely no idea what to do about this." Snape said suddenly, finally allowing a bit of his unease to show in his expression.  
  
"Neither do I." Harry replied, drawing his knees up to his chest. "I don't mind if you just want to ignore it." he added, though his voice betrayed the fact that he most certainly /did/ care. Severus stared at him out of the corner of his eye, unable to explain the slight pain the words caused. He didn't hide it from his face when he turned his head, staring after the averted face. He'd never bothered to learn much about the boy before, and he was surprised to find out just how much he'd missed. The boy was selfless, almost painfully so. Harry was willing to sacrifice his own feeling just so that he, Severus Snape, wouldn't have to deal with being a father. How was it possible that this boy was his son?  
  
"I most certainly will not ignore it." Severus said sharply, purposely preserving the pain in his expression. Harry looked up, his expression torn between surprise and fear. Then it softened, slowly bleeding into one of confusion. "You're my son, boy. You don't honestly expect me to simply pretend otherwise?"  
  
"Well....it's just that....I didn't think you'd /want/ one...and nobody really knows about it...." Harry stammered, struggling to understand the flash of pain he'd earlier seen across Snape's face.  
  
"What does it matter if I wanted a son or not? I have one now, don't I?" Snape continued, crossing his arms firmly across his chest.  
  
"Yeah...." Harry replied, brows knitting in confusion. Where was this going?  
  
"I won't fool myself by believing you're the least bit happy about discovering that /I/ am your father....but it is the truth. And as such, I will try to be one...if you're not too horrified by the idea." Severus said quickly, and ran a hand back through his hair again nervously. He /couldn't/ truthfully ignore it after all, even if he didn't happen to have any idea on how to /be/ a father. He owed it to Lily, at the very least, to give her--/their/ son something of what he'd been denied. He didn't imagine he'd be very good at it, he'd snapped at the boy already and they'd only been talking for a few minutes. But he would /try/, and he'd suggested nothing more.  
  
Harry was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head, but didn't immediately reply. Lowering his head, Harry looked back down at the linen bed sheets, completely shocked and confused. Snape /wanted/ to be a father? He didn't want to ignore it all? He couldn't believe it..../Snape/ was offering to try and be a father, he didn't appear to be disgusted by the idea in the least. In fact, he seemed almost....hopeful....  
  
"I'd like that." Harry finally replied, allowing a small smile, "I've never had one before..." he added, and smiled wider. So what if it was the mean old Potions Master? He wasn't an orphan anymore, and his father was /willing/...not desperate to throw him in a dark cupboard and lock him away. At least he /hoped/ not.....But no matter the case, Harry couldn't ignore the almost giddy feeling rising in his chest. He wasn't going to be ignored....he wasn't going to be shunned....When he looked back up, Snape had his head cocked to the side curiously, as if something he'd said had confused him.  
  
"What about those muggles you supposedly live with?" he asked, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. Surely the boy had had at least /some/ sort of father-type figure...  
  
"The /Dursley's/?! They really /do/ hate me, Professor. Ron can vouch for me on that. It wasn't their decision to take me in, and they haven't missed a chance to remind me it." Harry said, instantly cringing at the very thought of them.  
  
"Oh." was all Severus said in reply, startled as yet /another/ assumption about the boy was thrown out the window.  
  
"So.....what now?" Harry asked, fidgeting nervously with the edge of the bed sheet. Severus shrugged slightly, leaning his chin on his knuckles.  
  
"Well....we'll have to change you back, at least temporarily...." he began, dark eyes swirling with thought. "Beyond that....I don't know. I can't promise that I will change my attitude toward you in class, if you were wondering about that."  
  
"I know. Not with Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in there, anyway." Harry replied, lips curling in disgust at the names. With their parents being loyal Death Eaters, it would be, of course, impossible for Snape to change his attitude toward him in any fashion. Snape nodded in reply, his expression faintly amused.  
  
"Yes, it would not be...pleasant if Voldemort suspected anything at all." he replied, and Harry saw him cringe slightly. He was tempted to ask what would happen, what /had/ possibly happened over the summer with the Dark Lord, but it didn't seem like a good idea. Not yet, anyway. Suddenly, the curtains at the end of the bed were pushed aside, and both Harry and Snape jumped in surprise.  
  
"Professor Snape?!" Madam Pomfrey muttered in surprise, a tiny bottle of healing potion held in one hand and a clipboard in the other. She paused, her gaze drifting from Harry to Snape and back again, some sort of understanding begin to dawn.  
  
"Are you two....related?" she asked tentatively, and Harry simply stared at her. Snape rolled his eyes and cast her an annoyed glare.  
  
"Yes, he happens to be my son. Now, do you /mind/?" he growled, clearly hinting that she turn right back around and leave if she valued her health. Being a nurse, she probably did, but instead of paying any immediate heed to the glare she snatched a quill from her pocket and began scribbling happily on the clipboard.  
  
"I had no idea, Professor....at least now I have something to write down under 'name.' Honestly, all this secrecy Dumbledore's been insisting on...." she muttered quickly. "Now, there wouldn't happen to be a first name to go with that, would there?" she asked, and then froze when she finally looked up. Both Snape and his son were glaring at her in precisely the same, very annoyed fashion. "Right then....'Snape, comma, question mark' it is, then." she muttered, and then deftly slipped back out the way she came, muttering something about how on earth she'd survive /two/ of them.  
  
"Finally." Snape growled, rising from his chair, "Now that the /distractions/ are over..." he began, purposely saying the one word louder than the rest, "I have to go prepare for tomorrow's classes."  
  
"Um....Professor?" Harry asked quietly, and Snape turned to watch him, his hand on the edge of the curtain. "Could I ask you a question?"  
  
"Go ahead." Snape said, turning to face him again.  
  
"Um...I've been wondering....since I'm one of the Serpent's Children, does that mean Voldemort will have some sort of power over me if he finds out?" he asked, struggling to hide the slight fear in his eyes.  
  
"I don't know for sure, but we'll find out soon enough undoubtedly." Snape replied tiredly, and Harry sighed, reaching a hand up to touch the marked flesh between his eyes.  
  
"Yeah" Harry muttered, leaning heavily back against the pillows.  
  
"Goodnight, Harry. We'll talk again." Snape said, then turned back toward the curtains and slipped silently through, ignoring the look the nurse was giving him from across the room.  
  
"Okay." Harry replied to the empty room, turning his head to stare up at the ceiling. 'Well....that was certainly strange,' he thought to himself, 'and I'm still alive, that's a good sign,' he added with a smile. Staring at the softly rustling curtain, he sighed deeply, listening as the last echoes of the closing door reverberated through the room. While it was undoubtedly going to be a /very/ rocky, and possibly chaotic year, Harry didn't find himself fearing it anymore. He was almost curious to see what would happen, if Snape really would try and change, and if so, if it would a /good/ thing or not. He was still terrified, he realized that much, and there were far too many questions than there were answers, but he didn't really care at the moment. All that mattered was Snape's promise. The curtain suddenly slid open again, revealing Madam Pomfrey for the second time, and Harry looked up with a slight, apologetic smile.  
  
"Time for you to take another healing potion, Mr. Snape." she said, wielding the telltale bottle and enunciating the name. Harry cringed, lips curling in surprise and disgust. Mr. /Snape/? Hell, he hadn't even /thought/ about /that/....How horrible....He took the proffered bottle from her hand, and when he didn't down it immediately, she said;  
  
"Well, come on now. We don't have all day, Mr. Snape."  
  
Ick....  
  
----END CHAPTER 10-----  
  
A/N--well, you didn't think the angst was gonna last /forever/ did ya? ah well, next chpt. I get back into the actual plot. Don't worry though, plenty of horror waitin' on the horizon yet...hehe. 


	11. The Vision

Notes:: Sorry!!! In case you hadn't noticed by now...I'm not very apt to post on weekends, they're the most chaotic part of the week for me, and writing is nigh impossible. Therefore, this chapter's a bit short....but I /guarantee/ there will be another chapt. tomorrow. In fact, I'm only posting this now because I got a rather desperate email...::*cough* Mayleesa *cough* anyway, next chapter will be more meaty, I promise!  
  
Thanks:: To everybody taht reviewed!! I noticed a couple people who said they'd never reviewed anything before (or even read fanfiction!) and I would like to send a special thankyou out to them. I really do appreciate it when you all review, I'll try my very best to stay true to the story and give you all a repreive from the boring, /real/ world!! Thank you soo much!!  
  
  
  
A Father's Sin  
  
by Severitus  
  
Chapter 11----The Vision  
  
  
  
Dumbledore strolled into the Hospital Wing precisely at seven a.m. the next day, looking only slightly less cheerful than normal. Harry had already changed into his robes, thanks to a house elf that had shown up with them earlier that morning. He was currently sitting atop the bed, book opened before him, when Dumbledore pushed aside the curtain with a smile.  
  
"Hello, Harry. How are you feeling today?" he asked, walking over to stand next to the bed. Harry greeted him with a happy smile and closed the book, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.  
  
"Hello, Professor. Madam Pomfrey's finally letting me go today," he answered, absently reaching up to flick a strand of hair out of his face. Dumbledore stepped closer to the bed and sat down on its edge, turning a serious gaze on Harry.  
  
"Yes, that's why I'm here, as a matter of fact." the old wizard said, "If you are still sure that you want the Glamourie spell replaced, then I will do it for you now." he continued, his blue eyes fixed and unblinking. Harry hopped to the floor and stood before the old wizard, his bare feet smacking lightly on the cold stone. (The elf had forgotten to bring shoes)  
  
"I think it'd be best, at least for now. I don't think I could deal with all the questions just yet....I'm still a little confused about everything myself." he admitted, and Dumbledore nodded in understanding, his eyes drifting to the Serpent's Mark.  
  
"Yes, I'll have to agree with you on that. I imagine it would cause quite a disturbance were you to show up for class today looking completely different." he said, mouth curving into a light smile. He sat up straighter then, and gave Harry a firm pat on the back. "Alright then. I've already sent Madam Pomfrey off, so we might as well get on with it. I must warn you though, it may not be /exactly/ the same as before...I will do my best, but I'm afraid my knowledge of Glamourie is nowhere near that of you mother's."  
  
"That's ok."  
  
"Very well then." Dumbledore replied, and raised his wand toward Harry, the tip hovering above his head. "Persona Veritas!" he said firmly, and there was a brief flash of bluish light. Harry sat perfectly still, watching in amazement as the light slowly traveled across his skin, taking on a mirror-like quality as it quickly spread, then deepened to the shade of flesh and hair. It was over in an instant, and Harry found himself staring at the hands he'd thought his own for the past fifteen years. Dumbledore chuckled as Harry whipped his hands up to his face, feeling the rounder shape of his jaw and nose, checking to make sure that everything was as it should be. Everything appeared to be correct....save for one small thing. His glasses.  
  
"I'm sorry about the glasses, Harry..." Dumbledore began, sensing the boy's confusion, "I'm afraid I don't know how your mother managed to weave the spell to change your eyesight....as it is, I could make you a pair....but the lenses would have to be plain glass unless you'd want everything to be fuzzy." Dumbledore apologized, and Harry shook his head, running a hand back through his now short hair.  
  
"That's alright, Headmaster. I'll just tell everyone I got contacts or something." he replied, smiling lightly. In all honesty, he wouldn't miss the glasses a bit.  
  
"In that case, I do believe you have a few friends down in the breakfast hall, anxiously awaiting your arrival." he said with a bright smile, and Harry smiled in gratitude when Dumbledore held up his other hand, the fingers clutching a pair of shoes.  
  
"Thanks!" Harry exclaimed, quickly claiming the shoes and wasting no time in attaching them to his feet. Dumbledore smiled again and turned toward the door, his face lined with slight worry.  
  
"Harry, I want you to promise me something." he said after a moment, and Harry stood up from the bed, Dumbledore's book clutched to his chest. He nodded slowly, unease creeping into his chest from the odd look on the Headmaster's face. "I want you to promise me that if anything strange happens, anything at all...you'll come to either me or Professor Snape immediately." he said, his eyes clear and focused.  
  
"Of course, Professor. I promise." Harry replied firmly, and Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction.  
  
"Thank you, Harry. I'll see you at breakfast then."  
  
--------  
  
Ron and Hermione were staring rather nervously at their food, anxiously awaiting Harry's arrival from the hospital wing. Most of the school was either in the Great Hall, or had already finished and wandered back to the dorms. They, however, hadn't even touched their food yet.  
  
"Do you suppose Dumbledore changed him back? I mean, there'd be so many questions if he still looked like...you know..." Ron finally said, shattering the silence between the two. Across from him, Hermione looked up from her scrambled eggs, giving him that familiar glare that meant once again she was questioning his brain power.  
  
"Of /course/ Dumbledore will have changed him back. After all he's been through lately, do you honestly think Dumbledore would make Harry face a school full of stares and questions? And not to mention Professor Snape....if it got out that Harry was his son, it'd be really dangerous for him. Imagine what would happen if You-Know-Who found out that one of his supposedly loyal followers was the father of the boy that nearly killed him...." Hermione said, and Ron shivered, casting a sideways glance up at the Head table and Snape's empty seat.  
  
"I see what you mean." he said, suppressing another shiver.  
  
"On the other hand, he /did/ look pretty good..." Hermione added, but Ron cut her off with an abrupt glare.  
  
"Oh, get off it Hermione..." he muttered.  
  
"Morning!" a voice suddenly rang from behind him, and Ron nearly jumped a foot when a familiar figure suddenly sat down in the seat beside him.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, her expression both relieved and confused. "Your glasses are gone..." she added, and Harry shrugged.  
  
"Dumbledore couldn't get the spell exactly as mum had it, but this is fine by me." he replied, thankful that only a few people glanced his way in curiosity.  
  
"How are you? I mean, did you talk to your...um...to..." Ron began, breaking off in uncertainty at the last. Harry nodded, prodded the diced potatoes on his plate with a fork.  
  
"Yeah, he stopped by yesterday night." Harry said a bit reluctantly. He didn't really want to talk about it yet, not until he'd had a chance to truly sort everything out. For one, he was still a bit unsure about Snape's slight change of attitude, and he really wanted a chance to talk to him again before he even dared trying to explain anything to anyone else. It was no mystery that Snape felt guilty for raping his mother, and because of it, felt obligated to take care of her (their) son....but there had to be something else. Thankfully, both Ron and Hermione got the hint, and let the subject drop.  
  
"So....Ready for an hour of Divination, Harry?" Ron asked suddenly, smirking broadly. Harry blanched, cringing slightly back from the table.  
  
"Hell no...." he muttered, "I wonder what form of death and destruction she'll predict for me today...."  
  
"Drowning, perhaps?" Hermione offered innocently.  
  
"Or devoured by blast-ended skrewts?" Ron added.  
  
"Oy, don't even /joke/ about that one, Ron....." he said, though his face lit with a small smile at the memory. "We'd better get going, I don't want my death predicted in front of the entire class again..." he said, and they all rose from their hardly touched breakfasts and headed out of the hall, school bags in hand.  
  
They headed down the long hallway leading further back into the castle, oblivious to the pair of tall, older wizards that strolled far behind them, their gazes fixed intently on the three. Ron and Hermione began to talk about something or other as they walked, but Harry didn't pay attention to what they were saying, couldn't, actually. Something was twitching in the back of his mind, demanding attention, taking precedence over the conversation with it's insistence.  
  
"Harry, you okay?" Ron suddenly asked, and Harry only then noticed that he'd stopped walking, now several feet behind his friends. He looked up suddenly, struggling to clear his fuzzy thoughts.  
  
"Uh...yeah, just distracted I guess." he muttered, and blinked fiercely again. Something was trying to edge in on his vision, some sort of dark image battling to overtake the real world with it's own visage. Harry cried out in surprise when he suddenly felt a sharp pain from his scar, strangely accompanied by an odd tingling directly between his eyes. Sinking slowly down against a nearby wall, he held a hand to his scar, gritting his teeth in an attempt to ward off the pain and whatever was struggling to invade his thoughts. Fear was rising up in his chest as well, accompanied by rampant confusion.  
  
"Harry....I'll get Dumbledore..." Hermione began, but he shook his head fiercely, shutting his eyes tightly as his own vision suddenly gave out, a completely different scene settling before his eyes. He stifled another gasp as the new scene slid into focus...a dark room somewhere, empty, save for a large, coiled snake near a hearth...and there was hate, so much of it that his scar flared in renewed pain, and then image disappeared as suddenly as it had come. Blinkingly furiously, he stared at the concerned faces of his friends, struggling to catch his panicked breath and rise from the floor.  
  
"What happened?" Hermione asked, helping him to stand and handing him his fallen bag.  
  
"I'm not sure....I saw something...a room, with a snake, but....I've never had anything quite like that happen before." he admitted, and Hermione suddenly looked extremely worried. Harry had to admit /he/ was extremely worried, too.  
  
"Listen, Harry...tell Dumbledore about it, okay? This can't be good." she said, her eyes clear and focused with concern. Ron was fidgeting slightly, obviously unnerved by the whole thing as well.  
  
"I will, after class." Harry assured her, shifting his grip on the bag. "We'd better get going, I don't want to be late..." he added, and the subject was dropped.  
  
"Alright...I'll see you two later." Hermione said, and took off down the hallway that lead to her own class. Harry and Ron watched her go silently, and then continued down the hallway, oblivious to the three sets of eyes focused on their backs. Far behind them, the two men, now accompanied by a smug, blonde haired student, exchanged a stern look, and then abruptly turned on their heels, walking in perfect sync as they disappeared down the hall.  
  
"Surprise surprise, Potter...." the blonde boy whispered, "Looks like your in for more than you bargained for...."  
  
-------end Chapter 11-----  
  
Notes: MWAHAHAHAHA!!! cliffhanger!!! I told you I was returning to the plot!!! Oh, and don't worry, Snape will return in 12. 


	12. worry

Notes:: Okay, here's twelve...still kinda short and not much happening, but read the notes at the end before you get angry!! Oh, and guess what? I saw the Harry Potter movie for the 7th time today!! Woohoo!! I'm now thoroughly convinced that Snape is /really/ Harry's dad, even if the future books happen to prove me wrong!! For example...when Harry catches the snitch at the quidditch match, if you watch closely...Snape's mouth almost twitches into a smile!!! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!  
  
  
  
Notes2: Oh, and don't worry, the glamourie spell will be off again before you know it!! (probably about 2-3 chapter from now, and then from there till the end)  
  
  
  
Thanks: Thanks again to everyone that reviewed!!  
  
A Father's Sin  
  
by Severitus  
  
Chapter 12--Worry  
  
  
  
"Harry, is something the matter?" Dumbledore asked when Harry suddenly appeared at his office door before lunch. The boy looked worried, and was again shifting with the constant nervousness that had plagued him ever since he'd discovered the truth of his birth. Dumbledore couldn't help but feel sorry for him, but at the same time he had to admit to pride as well. The way Harry had reacted to the situation had proven to further Dumbledore's belief that he would indeed prove to be a powerful wizard. However, beneath the feelings of pity and pride, there was also a slight twinge of fear, both of and for the boy. There was still some that Harry did not yet know of the Serpent's Children, and Dumbledore sincerely hoped that he would not have to find out.  
  
"Um...you remember what you told me this morning, to come to you if anything strange happened?" Harry asked tentatively, and stepped cautiously itno the room when the Headmaster motioned him forward.  
  
"Yes, I remember. Has something happened?" Dumbledore asked as Harry sat down in one of the fluffy chairs across the desk.  
  
"Yeah....just after breakfast." Harry nodded, his hands folded white- knuckled in his lap.  
  
"Relax, Harry. I asked you to keep me informed so that I might be able to help you through what I'm sure has been a rather rough ordeal." Dumbledore said calmly, and Harry looked up, emerald eyes shining with a vague fear. "Now, tell me what happened." he continued, and Harry took a deep breath.  
  
"I was walking down the hall after breakfast, and I started feeling strange, like my thoughts were all fuzzy....then my scar started hurting, and the...mark was sort of tingling, I don't really remember for sure. But the next thing I knew, I saw this strange room in my head....nothing special, but I remember there was a huge snake curled up in front of a fireplace. There were feelings, too...hate mostly." he said, absently raising a hand to trace his scar in memory of the pain. When he looked up, Dumbledore was staring off into space, his eyes unfocused as he scratched his bearded chin thoughtfully.  
  
"And this has never happened before?" he asked after a moment, turning a calm, blue gaze to glance across the desk.  
  
"No...not like that. I've had dreams before, seen things that Voldemort has done....but never when I've been awake." Harry replied, looking away in slight shame. "Is it because...of what I am?" Harry asked after a moment, casting his eyes down to stare into his lap. He became vaguely aware of Dumbledore having risen from his seat, but was thoroughly surprised when he felt a pair of hands settle on his shoulders. Looking up, he found Dumbledore standing before him, staring him directly in the eye as he held firmly to his shoulders.  
  
"Harry, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I know that the past few days have probably been the worst in your life, filled with more confusion and pain than you've ever believed you could handle....but do not lose sight of who you are." Dumbledore said, and Harry blinked at him in confusion, "You are the son of Lily Potter and Severus Snape, two of the strongest people I have ever met. You have shown bravery, Harry, and friendship. You've saved the lives of many students in these past four years, and despite your fame, you've never once let it go to your head, never once have I seen you lose sight of yourself. Yes, you are a Serpent's Child, but that is but a mark of your birth..../not/ your destiny. It may seem hard at times, but you /must/ stay true to yourself. Do you understand?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry stared at him, bewildered. Slowly, he nodded his head, and Dumbledore stood up, leaning back against the desk behind him.  
  
"I think so, sir..." Harry replied, "But...what /was/ that I saw?" he asked, and Dumbledore sighed heavily.  
  
"It seems I must tell you more about the Serpent's Children, then...if you are to be prepared." Dumbledore said, and then turned and walked slowly around the desk, sitting in his chair once again. "What you experienced this morning was because of your connection with Voldemort, most likely through you're Mark. I'm not entirely sure why it has not happened before, but it appears that now the link between you has been activated. This is why it is imperative that you remain on the school grounds, Harry. Here, the spells that protect Hogwarts can at least partially protect you from his power....but outside of the barrier, I'm afraid even I do not know what would happen. Your father has informed me that Voldemort apparently does not know that you are one of the Serpent's Children, and I must agree with him. But, if the Dark Lord were to find out....it may no longer be your death that he seeks." Dumbledore said, then paused to lean back in his chair, "The other Serpent's Children I expect suffered from episodes like the one you did this morning, but without Hogwarts barrier to buffer the effect....they have become mere extensions of Voldemort. His power controls them completely, even their thoughts are enslaved." Dumbledore said, and Harry stared at him open mouth, unconsciously gripping the arms of the chair in a vise-like hold.  
  
He'd been afraid of that being the case....of Voldemort's absolute power over his creations. It hadn't been all that far-fetched of a conclusion to reach, especially after seeing the Serpent's Children for himself. Their blank stares, the nearly single-minded motion and purpose of the lot...all except for the one. He could still see their faces in the dark, pale and leering in a flash of lightning, eyes fixed and filled with murder...he knew he'd had at least one nightmare about it since.  
  
"I understand, Professor. I remember seeing them like that....blank, as if they weren't thinking for themselves" Harry replied, and Dumbledore nodded silently.  
  
"Yes....before Voldemort's return, they were most likely clueless as to their birth, having nothing but a strange birthmark. And now.....it pains me to think of so many children lost...." Dumbledore sighed, his wrinkled face perfectly mirroring the sorrow he felt within.  
  
"Is there no way to help them? To break Voldemort's power over them?" Harry asked, eyes alight with hope.  
  
"I'm afraid I can't say for sure....but it is doubtful. Voldemort controls them from within as well as from without, through that bit of his power that is a part of each of you." Dumbledore answered reluctantly, and Harry nodded dumbly, eyes sliding out of focus. "You'd better get going, Harry...I don't want you to miss lunch." Dumbledore said suddenly, startling Harry from his thoughts, "You may come and talk to me again later if you wish." Dumbledore assured, and Harry shook his head.  
  
"No, that's alright Professor. Thank you for telling me about them....I promise to tell you if anything else happens." he said, and rose slowly from the chair. Dumbledore nodded and watched him leave, unable to hide the look of sorrow that felt his eyes. He knew Harry was frightened, terrified that Voldemort would gain control of him, and Dumbledore didn't know how to help him fight against it if he happened. He /did/ know of someone that could, and he only hoped that Severus would be willing to open up enough to help his child.  
  
  
  
Harry stepped away from the gargoyle in a slight daze, his head reeling with a myriad of thoughts, all laced with fear. what if the barriers didn't hold back Voldemort? What if they didn't /have/ to? He wondered, beginning a slow walk toward the Great Hall. What if his own mind betrayed him, forced him into unwilling servitude to the Dark Lord? At least he knew he could fight off the Imperius Curse, but could he fight something that came from within? He didn't know...the possibility frightened him. After all, hadn't Dumbledore mentioned something about the Serpent's Children murdering their families? He couldn't bear the thought of hurting anyone at Hogwarts...especially not his friends.  
  
"Harry?" a voice suddenly called from behind, the name rolling from the tongue as if it were something foreign. Harry froze, his forgotten nervousness suddenly returning full force. Slowly, he turned around, struggling to keep his expression calm.  
  
"Yes, Professor?" He asked calmly, staring up at the impassive face of his father. Snape cleared his throat lightly, and Harry again noted the slight nervousness in the swirl of his black eyes.  
  
"Would it be possible...for you to meet me in my office after your classes?" he asked suddenly, and Harry nearly smiled at the apparent effort the question took. After all, Snape was used to simply giving orders, rather than asking for anything.  
  
"Er...yeah, I can." Harry said in reply, mentally cursing at the tremor that still rang in his own voice. Snape nodded, his former nervousness disappearing into Snape's normal cold, black gaze.  
  
"Very well, I shall see you then." he said, and turned abruptly on his heels and stalked off in his usual manner, though Harry was convinced that it was a bit of a quicker stalk than normal.  
  
-----------  
  
Lunch was lunch; same chatter in the background, same delicious food on the table, and the same mad rush to finish homework for History of Magic class. Hermione, of course, didn't neglect to draw attention to the fact that she'd finished her homework far ahead of time. That done, they continued on in the usual routine, and Harry admitted to nearly forgetting about the past few days. Things seemed normal, well.../mostly/ normal...Ron kept staring at him strangely every now and then.  
  
"Ron, why do you keep staring at me like that?" Harry asked suddenly, causign his red-haired friend to jerk in surprise.  
  
"Oh! Um...no reason, really..." Ron stuttered, and Harry leveled an impatient glare at him, crossing his arms in mock irritation. Again, Ron stared.  
  
"You're doing it again." Harry muttered, and Ron let his forehead fall to the table with a dull thump.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry, I can't help it. Whenever you glare like that, or...well...just do certain things, I can't help but think of Snape. It's creepy." Ron finally admitted, lifting his head from the table and his face turning red with embarrassment. Harry stared at him for a moment, and then shook his head with a laugh.  
  
"Oh," he replied after a moment, causing both Ron and Hermione to stare at him in surprise. "Don't worry about it Ron, I can't help it either." he said, and Ron would have replied, but Draco Malfoy suddenly slid into view, walking slowly between the tables.  
  
"Hello, Potter." he said with a smug look as he passed behind them, slowly down just enough to give Harry a ceremonial whack on the back of the head. Ron and Hermione each turned to glare after the Slytherin, but Harry wasted no time in retribution. Without a second thought, he scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes and flung the contents expertly at the back of Draco's robes, where they stuck without notice. Draco continued on toward his own table, completely clueless, but several Gryffindors and Ravenclaws stifled loud snickers. While watching Draco's retreating figure, however, Harry noticed something that distracted him from his amusement.  
  
At the back of the hall, two tall wizards stood, dressed identically in dark robes and ties. Their gazes were drifting steadily about the room, almost predatory in their intensity.  
  
"I wonder who they are." Harry muttered, and Ron and Hermione turned to look, each staring in confusion.  
  
"I don't know....they look awful suspicious though." Hermione muttered, with Ron nodding in agreement. "Let's get going.." she added, picking up her satchel. The two boys followed suit, but Harry kept returning his gaze to the pair of wizards as he headed out the door....they were staring at /him/ now...  
  
----end chapter 12-----  
  
A/N--I know, I know...not much Snape, but I'll be posting /another/ chapter in just a few short hours (maybe less) and hopefully another full-sized chapter tomorrow. (with much Snape included!!) 


	13. Trials

Note:: okay, 2nd chpter of the day…..lalalala….And I'm angry with ff.net right now…..I wanted to post this last night too, but they wouldn't let me! Kept getting that awful 'blank document' message….grrrr  
  
Quote:  
  
"They say that time is the greatest teacher, but unfortunately........it kills all it's students."  
  
~Anonymous  
  
  
  
A Father's Sin  
  
By Severitus  
  
Chapter 13--Trials  
  
  
  
History of Magic had been just as boring as always, though Harry had to admit that he'd been distracted part of the time, unable to doze off as Ron had during the lesson. He'd been nervous the entire time, unable to stop wondering about his upcoming meeting with Snape. (Was that what he was supposed to call him?) What sort of things did he want to talk to him about? In all honesty, Harry couldn't really imagine having a 'conversation' with Snape, even though they'd sort of had one in the hospital wing. And now, as he approached the door to Snape's dungeon office, he couldn't think of a thing to say. Stepping up to the door, he took a deep breath and knocked, shifting from foot to foot before the door. After a moment, Snape's tired voice sounded from within.  
  
"Come in." he said, and the door opened and inch or two on its own. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped through slowly, his gaze automatically turned toward the desk. Snape was seated behind it, quill in hand as he stared down at one of the rolls of parchment pilled on his desk. He glanced up as Harry closed the door behind him, and set the quill aside. "You can sit down, you know." he said, after Harry simply stood inside the door, watching him with a hint of fear and nervousness. Immediately, Harry complied, sliding down into the chair across from the desk.  
  
"So...." Snape began, pausing to clear his throat again, "How was class?" he asked nervously, and Harry could tell that Snape really didn't care how class went, but was instead searching desperately for something to say.  
  
"It was okay." Harry replied, shifting uneasily in his chair. "Um....how about yours?" he asked, and realized with slight amusement that /he/ didn't really care how Snape's day had been either. Snape looked surprised at the question, and folded his hands on the desk, unlacing and then relacing the fingers several times.  
  
"The same." he replied at last, and they sat in silence for a moment, neither meeting the gaze of the other. "I see Dumbledore turned you back." Snape said at last, and Harry nodded, absently scratching the back of his neck.  
  
"Yeah, it'd be too dangerous without the glamourie." Harry replied, daring to glance up at the desk. Snape had finally lifted his gaze upward, and his eyes were slowly sliding over his features, causing an unconscious shiver to run up Harry's spine.  
  
"I liked you better the other way." Snape admitted finally, and Harry merely stared in reply, "Though it is an unfortunate necessity that the spell remain." he sighed, and then leaned back in his chair, still staring at him in contemplation. It was strange to look at him, to stare at a face that was nothing more than a disguise. He hated seeing James' face there, his enemy's visage forced upon that of his son...but it was nothing compared to the hatred he currently harbored for Voldemort, for being the reason for Harry's disguise in the first place.  
  
"So...um, what happens now?" Harry asked, and Snape glanced up into the green eyes. They were frightened, and nervous, only barely managing to hold his gaze.  
  
"I do not know." he admitted, allowing himself to sigh deeply. He honestly had no clue what he was supposed to do, or feel for that matter. It had been a long time since he'd cared for anyone, and he was pretty sure he'd forgotten how. A father was supposed to care for his son, wasn't he? And yet...he'd hated the face that sat before him for so many years, he couldn't manage much more than an absence of feeling. There was pride, yes, and fear, and most certainly guilt....but as to anything else? It would take far more than simply realizing that the boy was his son to ignite any sort of fatherly feeling. Severus hated to admit it....but it was the truth. "Have you spoken to Professor Dumbledore?" he asked at last, and Harry nodded.  
  
"Yes, he told me some more about the Serpent's Children, I had a....vision, of sorts." Harry replied, and Severus looked up, curious. He'd ask Albus about this 'vision' later....  
  
"Did he happen to mention anything about the two wizards that have been wandering about the school?" he asked, and Harry glanced up, surprised.  
  
"Er...no." Harry replied, and Severus thought that he seemed almost disappointed at the question. He passed it from his mind as he leaned back in his chair again, tapping his jaw in thought. At long last he leaned forward again and snatched a rolled newspaper from atop the desk, passing it to Harry's shaking hand.  
  
"Look at the first page." Severus said, and Harry complied, unrolling the paper and flicking his eyes back and forth.  
  
The headline read 'Ministry Hunts for Murderous Serpent's Children,' and was accented with a moving picture of a few men questioning an innocent looking old woman. "They're trying to finish what they started?" Harry asked, his eyes filled with fear. Snape nodded slowly, taking back the paper and setting it on his desk. "But....what's that have to do with the two wizards? They can't be looking for them /here/ can they?"  
  
"Unfortunately, they can." Snape replied calmly, "Someone tipped off the Ministry that there was a Serpent's Child at Hogwarts. They did not say that they suspected you...but I would suggest that you avoid them as much as possible, there is a possibility that they already know about you." he said, and Harry blanched, remembering the pair of eyes watching him as he left the Great Hall. Surely they wouldn't be out to.../kill/ him, would they? Harry shivered at the thought, remembering Snape's retelling of the Ministry's former actions concerning the Serpent's Children....  
  
"You don't think...they'd want to kill me, do you?" he asked finally, and Snape looked up, his black gaze piercing.  
  
"You'd be surprised what the Ministry can do with the public's fear on their side." Snape replied darkly, and Harry shivered, shrinking deeper into the cushions of the chair.  
  
"Can't I just hide or something, until they go away?" Harry asked, and Snape's gaze darkened slightly with confusion.  
  
"You want to..../hide/?" he asked incredulously, and Harry frowned.  
  
"Of course I want to hide, all they have to do is cast that 'Revelo' spell, and they have their proof! And you just practically said that they'd kill me if they found out!" Harry said, slight anger taking over his former fear.  
  
"Voldemort's already trying to kill you." Snape said, his gaze once again filled with slight confusion. Surely it wouldn't make all that big of a difference if there happened to be a few other people possibly out for his blood. Abruptly, Harry stood up from his chair, face colored with anger.  
  
"Aren't you even /trying/?!" he demanded, and Snape's own brows dipped with anger, lips curling in annoyance.  
  
"Trying /what/?" he asked sharply, still confused by Harry's anger.  
  
"Yesterday you told me that you'd try to be a father, that you'd try to change....were you just lying?! Would you even /care/ if one of them killed me?!" he yelled, and Snape stared at him for a moment, his black gaze locked onto an angry green one. He'd made a mistake already...damnit, he should have at least shown /some/ concern. After all, it wouldn't have been a complete lie, he was worried about the boy...but apparently not concerned /enough/.  
  
"Of course I'd care." he replied at last, but Harry didn't seem to believe him.  
  
"You could still ignore me, you know...that's something I know I can handle." Harry said coldly, walking toward the door, "After all, the Dursleys have done it for fourteen years....why shouldn't you?" he finished, and stormed angrily out the door, completely deaf to the sound of his name ringing after him down the hall.  
  
Back in the office, Severus Snape ran his hands back through his hair, staring blankly down at the desktop. Fine job you've done, Severus, he thought to himself, first time you really talk to the boy and you can't even bother to show the slightest bit of concern over the fact that a pair of Aurors might possibly /kill your son/. He really /wasn't/ father material....but he had to learn, or risk losing any chance at all. He decided right then and there he'd go up and talk to Albus after dinner. If a 150 year old wizard couldn't give him a few pointers on fatherhood...then he truly /was/ a lost cause...  
  
----------------  
  
Harry emerged from the dungeons in an enraged fashion that surely would have made Ron gape. Snape had promised to try, hadn't he? He wondered, or had he just imagined it? Dashing down an empty hallway, he fumed silently, caught someplace between rage and pain. Sure, Snape had admitted to being clue-less about the whole 'father' thing, but that didn't mean he didn't care...at least a /little/. What good was Snape's promise if it wasn't real? If he simply /pretended/ to care about his son? Sure, it would be better than gaining a detention every time he turned around....but he didn't want it to be fake. He didn't /want/ his father to pretend to care about him...he wanted it to be /real/. And somehow, when Snape had said, 'Of course I care,' Harry knew that it had been a lie. There had been no emotion behind it, no conviction....nothing to persuade Harry that it was the truth.  
  
Harry rounded a corner, and abruptly stopped in his tracks when he came face to face with the two strange wizards he'd seen in the Great Hall. They had been standing in the empty hallway, and now turned to face him, expressions vacant of emotion.  
  
"Harry Potter?" one of them asked, but Harry remained silent, taking a few steps backwards.  
  
"We must ask you to accompany us to the Ministry Headquarters, there are some questions we would like to ask you." the second said, and Harry backed up further, eyes darting frantically around for some sign of another human being, but the hall was vacant. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the first wizard raise his wand, and he wasted no time in turning on his heels and running as fast as he could in the other direction. However, he hadn't gone ten feet before everything stopped, vision instantly fading to black...and his face connected solidly with the stone floor. His thoughts began to slow down, words becoming harder and harder to form, until finally nothing but a dull, vivid ringing remained in the darkness.....  
  
---------------End Chapter 13-----------------  
  
Notes:: MWAHAHAHA! Ah well…hopefully I'll have another up for your tonight. And don't worry…Snape won't stay his cold-hearted self forever! And as always, speculations are always welcome! 


	14. The Double Edged Sword

Notes: No Notes!

A Father's Sin

by Severitus

Chapter 14--The Double Edged Sword

Green eyes shone brightly in the dim room, an endless swirl of fear and desperation raging within their fathomless depths. The surrounding face was pale with terror, flesh ghost-like from within the frame of long, fiery curls. The woman struggled vainly, lashing like a mad cat against constricting hands. Her captors stood like statues, faces hidden within silvery masks and midnight cloaks, callused fingers latched vise-like around her arms. Her mouth opened and closed with a silent scream, vocal chords frozen by dark magic like that surging through the room.

Severus Snape stood before her, grateful that his expression was hidden from the Dark Lord at his side. Could he really go through with this? Would he be able to do this to /her? He demanded of himself, struggling to slow his panicked breath as he watched her fight, lashing out at every opportunity for freedom. He remembered her...every word she'd ever spoken, every kind look, every soft smile...she was the most perfect creature to walk the face of the earth. And she'd been kind to /him/...to the sadistic child practically destined to the Dark Lord's service, fluent in every dark spell before he'd ever set foot within the gates of Hogwarts. Just looking at her face caused a surge of shame to rise in his chest, disgust at himself for making the wrong choice...for choosing power as his path. And now here she was before him again, one of the Dark Lord's 'special' captures...presented like an object before the most favored of his followers. He couldn't do it...couldn't violate her in that way, couldn't leave her with mental scars to last a lifetime...but then again, he didn't really have a choice. Oh, he could simply choose another, or apparate away with the excuse of it being 'Hogwart's Business,'...but that wouldn't change anything. She'd still be raped, still be subjected to a lifetime of horrific memories, and worse yet...she'd be left with physical scars as well. He well remembered Lucius' last victim...a poor young girl with a face like an angel and a scream like a banshee. She hadn't survived...Lucius had ripped her and beat her, pounded her against the sharp stone walls and squeezed her throat till she choked out his name. Stiffling a shiver, Severus pointed his wand at Lily and whispered, "Serenus," and she instantly grew limp, now only weakly tugging against her captors.

"Is that the one you have chosen?" Voldemort asked, turning to face him expectantly. He nodded slowly, and Voldemort smiled evilly, and with a wave of his hand, four more Death Eaters rose from the ranks, each approaching and taking a place before one of the remaining women. "Proceed then, and may I warn you again to keep them alive." Voldemort hissed, and Snape suppressed a fierce shudder, resisting the urge to glance backward at Malfoy's kneeling figure. The other four Death Eaters violently latched onto the women, dragging or carting them violent toward the upper chambers. Snape followed reluctantly, taking Lily up in his arms as gently as possible without seeming suspicious, and trudged slowly up the dark staircase.

She was staring at him, her green eyes sharp and frightened, accusing him with their intensity, and for a terrified moment...he thought she recognized him, somehow sensed his presence behind the featureless mask. He continued to climb, struggling to ignore those eyes, so beautiful and brilliant...and tried to block the first scream from his ears as it rang down from the chambers above. Again, he faltered, unable to keep his breath under control as he saw her eyes again, her entire body trembling terribly in his tender grasp. He couldn't do it...not to her, not to Lily...if only he could escape unnoticed, slip past the Death Eaters at the doors, cast a memory charm on the ones upstairs...anything to keep from hurting Lily...

But he couldn't...there was no other way...

Green eyes were watching him...

Severus Snape jerked violently up from the bed, the book lying forgotten on his chest falling loudly to the floor. It was the same dream again, the same memory...he struggled violently to shut it away, to erase the image of those eyes from his mind. But he couldn't forget them...never completely.

"Damn it all..." he muttered, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed. He hadn't bothered to change out of his robes, he hadn't even bothered to go to bed, really. He'd fallen asleep atop the covers, trying to stave off sleep by immersing himself in the novel. For just a while he'd wanted to escape...to still the chaos that had overtaken his thoughts the past few days...but it seemed he would be denied even that. After all, murderers and rapists weren't worthy of peace...

The bed squeaked softly as he rose, trudging sluggishly toward the fireplace and one of the black velvet chairs before it. "Accendo," he muttered idly, and the fireplace was instantly filled with a soft, warm glow. The flames licked hungrily at the dark stone walls, tiny white sparks crackling and spiraling up the chimney. He watched for a moment, staring deep into the red heart of the flames...so much like her hair, curling and shining in the torch-light. The thought vanished as he mentally forced it back into the darkness, eyes slitted in annoyance at the betrayal of his own mind. He'd chickened out of talking to Albus, earlier too...told himself he'd do it the next day, to give himself time to think of the proper questions. But that was simply an excuse, he'd waste no breath denying it. 'A fifteen year old boy is braver than I am,' he mused darkly, shaking his head in utter self-loathing. Harry had stood up to him, had taken his fears head on, even with his entire world crumbling about his shoulders. And /he/ couldn't bare to ask a friend for advice, couldn't bring himself to climb a set of magic stairs and ask, 'Albus, what should I do about Harry?' No, he was Severus Snape, the formidable Potions Master, ex-Death Eater and spy...he couldn't /possibly/ have the guts to ask such a question. Pitiful.

The flames sparked again, and his thoughts lingered...swirling with memories from earlier that day. He still couldn't quite understand why Harry had gotten so angry. Some of it he understood, of course...but not all. He /had/ been trying to change his attitude, he certainly hadn't yelled at the boy. And yet...that small change seemed to have gone unnoticed, drown out in a violent flare of anger. He had to try again, to make more of an effort to change...but the problem was that he didn't know /what/ to change. Yelling and glaring were obvious enough, and he'd done well in controlling those, but what beyond that? What was a father supposed to do? Buy presents? Pat him on the back and smile? He didn't understand...his own father certainly hadn't set much of an example, the bastard had never been around, either off on business or having sent Severus off to some boarding school or another. /He'd/ certainly never put any effort into fatherhood, so what was he supposed to go by? With no example of what a proper father should do, he hadn't the slightest idea where to start...and he didn't have the guts to ask...

Suddenly, there was an urgent knocking at the door to his rooms. Jerking in surprise, Severus furrowed his brows in confusion and instinctively reached for his wand.

"What?" he asked sharply, his hand wrapped securely around the smooth handle of the wand. The door opened slowly, creaking on the ancient hinges, and Albus Dumbledore stepped hurriedly into the room.

"Albus?" Severus asked in surprise, rising from the chair. The old wizard wore an extremely worried expression, his ancient eyes wide with urgency.

"It's Harry," Albus said quickly, and Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Hogsmeade again?" he asked, assuming that the child had once again gone running off into the night. To his surprise, Albus shook his head, a slight scowl briefly crossing his features.

"No...they've taken him." Albus replied, and Severus expression instantly shifted into one of shock.

"The Aurors! They weren't supposed to take action without your approval!" Severus barked, confused by the sudden flare of anger that rose in his chest. Dumbledore shook his head sadly, turning slightly toward the door.

"Harry did not show up for dinner or to his dorm this evening, and it has been confirmed that he is nowhere on the grounds of Hogwarts. The Aurors are missing as well, it can only be assumed that they are responsible. You know how Cornelius like to take matters into his own hands." Dumbledore said, his eyes darkening toward the last.

"Then we must hurry." Severus replied, and wasted not a moment in dashing out the door, robes flaring as he turned the corner at a near run. Dumbledore followed close behind, his step surprisingly quick for his age.

"Severus! Where are you heading? We have no idea where he could have been taken..." Dumbledore began when they reached the front doors of the castle. The older wizard was panting slightly, but Severus wasn't the least bit flushed.

"/I/ know where they will have taken him. I am heading off the grounds to apparate. And while I /would/ appreciate your help, Albus...I don't think it would be wise for you to join me. It wouldn't cause much of a ripple if I were to be seen breaking into a Ministry building...but we cannot afford for you to be seen doing anything of the sort." Severus said quickly, the door held open in his hand. Dumbledore nodded, his eyes sparkling sadly in the dim light.

"Be careful, Severus..." Dumbledore said, placing a firm hand on the younger wizard's shoulder. Severus only nodded solemnly, and disappeared off into the night.

------------------------------

It was cold; that was the first thing Harry noticed on his return to consciousness. There was a stone floor beneath him, smoothed and pitted from years of boot heels and broom bristles. The air was frigid, a numbing, night breeze rustling in from somewhere up high. Blinking slowly, Harry struggled to sit up, willing his eyes to adjust to the near pitch dark of the room. It was a cell, he noticed that immediately, rather like that from a 1700's prison or police station. And he was alone, he realized as his eyes finally adjusted, revealing the plain stone walls of the empty room. There was a solid wooden door across from him, the top inlaid with a small, barred window. A dim light shone through the bars, illuminating a triangle of damp, gray stone upon the floor.

Where was he? He wondered...he didn't think it was Azkaban, it didn't seem like anything Sirius or Hagrid had ever mentioned. Sitting up against the wall, Harry pulled his knees up to his chest, shivering slightly from the biting cold. He could hear voices from somewhere distant, the words muddled and indiscernible. Sighing heavily, Harry leaned his head back against the stone, shutting his eyes against the darkness of the room. Did anyone know where he was? He wondered, had anyone noticed his absence? Of course Ron and Hermione would have, but the question was, would anyone think to rescue him? And for that matter, would they even be /able/ to? After all this was the Ministry of Magic, the supposed 'heroes' in the wizarding world, they held the leash to Dumbledore's power. Once proven that he, Harry Potter, was a Serpent's Child...the odds would most certainly /not/ be in his favor. Sure, he was 'famous,' he was a 'hero,' but he knew from experience that that didn't mean a thing. After all, it hadn't even taken a day after the school had discovered he was a Parselmouth to turn against him, claiming that /he/ was Slytherin's heir. And that wasn't even considering their reaction to his placement in the Triwizard Tournament...Dumbledore and anyone crazy enough to try and rescue him would be powerless.

Harry paused in his thoughts, opening his eyes briefly to stare off into the dark. Yes, it was true that the Ministry would most likely try and kill him...but that wasn't what had Harry worried. After all, Snape had been right in one thing, his life /was/ always in constant danger. While on the grounds of Hogwarts, he hadn't feared much for his life normally, but now that he was off the grounds something far graver than any former worry ruled his thoughts. Here, without Hogwarts barrier spells...he had nothing to protect him from Voldemort's control, from the dark power ingrained within him since birth. Here, Voldemort could slip into his mind and pull his strings...force him to commit the most horrific of crimes. What did his life matter, when compared to becoming a pawn? A /puppet? It was nothing to compare, nothing when viewed against the images of his friends screaming in terror, his own wand raising into the air and his own voice whispered the hated words of death...He had to get out of here, to somehow escape back to the safety of Hogwarts where he needn't fear for the lives of his friends. Pushing further up against the wall, Harry stared blankly across the room, unconsciously reaching up to trace the naked flesh between his eyes, remembering the odd tingling from that morning...

He had to escape...before the Dark Lord decided to take his puppet by the strings...

-----------End Chapter 14-------

Notes: If your wondering about the chapter title, it's in reference to the ministry. : ) Thanks again for reading! Don't forget to let me know what you think, and suspect! MWAHAHAHAHA!


	15. Trust and Torture

Notes: No notes again!! : ) Except for, obviously, a BIG OLE THANKYOU TO EVERYBODY FOR REVIEWING!!! WOO HOOO!!!!  
  
Q's: A couple people asked about the glamourie, so to answer your question, Harry still has the spell on. Don't worry though, I'll have it back off again in either the next chpter or the one after that. This story still has a long way to go....  
  
Also, to answer Atheis' question, I'm not sure when I'll update 'An Old Man's Meddling.' Soon, hopefully (The writer's block is gone! I know what to do!)...but I've got a couple papers for school i'm working on in addition to this story, so I've gotta get those out of the way first. In case you're wondering, yes, that is the reason the chapters have been shorter...aheh....  
  
A Father's Sin  
  
by Severitus  
  
Chapter 15--Trust and Torture  
  
~~~  
  
Dear Professor Dumbledore,  
  
We offer our humblest apologies for acting without first requesting your approval,  
  
but the members of the Board believe that urgency is of the utmost importance.  
  
Daily there are reports of more tragedies, and we feel it our duty to do what we can  
  
to prevent further incidents. When we received word of the possibility of Harry  
  
Potter being a Serpent's Child, we were all naturally devastated by the news. You  
  
must understand that our actions were not rashly made, it would be a blow to the  
  
entire wizarding community if this information is proven to be the truth. You  
  
needn't worry about the safety of your student, Professor, he is being treated in  
  
a manner worthy of one of his notoriety. We will perform the standard tests  
  
and questioning, and in good faith he shall be back in your care before the  
  
week's end. Should the unthinkable occur, and it be proven that Mr. Potter is  
  
indeed the son of a Death Eater, then regretfully the proper steps must be  
  
taken to ensure the safety of the wizarding community. I'm sure that you  
  
understand the gravity of the situation, and we all hope that we may count  
  
on your support in these trying times.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Cornelius Fudge  
  
Head Minister of Magic  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Albus Dumbledore roughly shoved the letter aside on his desk, eyes cold with disdain and worry. He'd fought with the council tooth and nail to keep the pair of Aurors away in the first place, but he'd been outvoted by the Council. With the rising of the Serpent' Children, Cornelius had somehow managed to persuade the Council into his own favor, and now they seemed to take his side on even the smallest of matters. Dumbledore was convinced that before long Cornelius would be heading a full-fledged campaign against the Serpent's Children, just like the one so many years ago....Dumbledore shuddered at the thought. He'd tried his best to bring Cornelius to his senses in the past on matters concerning Voldemort...but the man never listened. The Minister of Magic was far too concerned with his own image than that of the true war...he wanted to appear strong to the public, to prove to them in whatever manner he could that he was worthy of the job. And now he had Harry.....what would  
he /really/ do to the poor child? Dumbledore wondered. He wasn't worried about the Ministry actually proving that Harry was a Serpent's Child....Glamourie wasn't common enough to be considered, and it certainly wasn't a part of the regular 'tests.' Veritaserum /might/ be a danger...but if Cornelius had in mind what Dumbledore suspected, than that was the least of their worries as well. In fact, there probably wouldn't even be any 'tests' at all....  
  
Pulling out a piece of blank parchment, Dumbledore hurriedly began to scribble an urgent letter. If Severus succeeded in rescuing Harry, than there were certain things that had to be done, and quickly. Simply being within Hogwarts barrier was no longer enough protection for the child, especially when it was the Ministry he needed to be protected from. That was, if he even survived long enough to /be/ protected....Dumbledore certainly feared the worse, there was always the possibility that he was already dead. Although Voldemort was undoubtedly the enemy of all who lived, he was no longer the only snake in the pit. While the Dark Lord commanded unimaginable magical power, and some political as well....he would never gain the allegiance of the people. He was feared, he was /known/ to be an enemy. But the Ministry was not...they were supposed to be the protectors, the leaders in the battle against the darkness. All they had to do was set forth enough proof, and the people would  
stand behind them no matter the cause, blinded by their own ignorance. Cornelius could simply release a few choice articles to the public, say a few chosen words....and Harry would be condemned in the eyes of the world. Harry was a Serpent's child, suffered visions of Voldemort, spoke parseltongue, shared a variety of powers with the Dark Lord, even shared the same /wand/ as him....what would the public think? It would be simple for Cornelius to twist the facts. No, /Voldemort/ didn't kill Cedric Diggory, /Potter/ did..../he/ helped a convicted murdered escape from custody, /he/ opened the Chamber of Secrets. The possibilities were endless. The Ministry could twist the image of Harry as a champion of light into one of darkness, into that of some fated servant of the Dark Lord.  
  
"I pity you your fate, child..." Dumbledore whispered, sealing the finished letter and placing his seal on the back. "Dobby!" Dumbledore called out, and a moment later, the elf appeared in front of him, eyes dropping with interrupted sleep.  
  
"Yes, Professor? Dobby is at your service!" he proclaimed, struggling valiantly to appear wakeful. Dumbledore handed him the letter.  
  
"Have this delivered to Remus Lupin immediately, but do not mention a word of it to anyone. This is /very/ important, Harry's safety may depend upon it." he said, and Dobby grew wide eyed with worry.  
  
"Harry Potter is in trouble, sir?! Dobby will deliver the Headmaster's letter immediately, sir!" the elf proclaimed, and disappeared in a particularly quick 'pop.' Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and began writing another letter, the quill scratching quickly and neatly across the fresh parchment. This letter was directed to an associate that worked at the Ministry, one of the few people that Dumbledore knew without a doubt he could trust...one of the few remaining, he feared. What had happened to the days when one could trust more people than not? He wondered, it seemed as if the whole world was finally succumbing to corruption. That letter finished, he set it aside on his desk; it was not as urgent as the other and could be sent in the morning with the regular mail.  
  
"May Merlin's luck be with you and your son, Severus...." Dumbledore whispered to himself, and from his nearby perch, Fawkes cooed softly in reply.  
  
-----------------------  
  
Harry scrambled to his feet when he heard the door squeak loudly open. He'd been lying in a half-daze against the wall, completely numb from the chill air and cold stone. Still shivering, he pressed his back against the wall, lifting a hand to shield his eyes against the bright light filtering into the room. Three men stood silhouetted in the doorway, two turned away with their arms crossed...standing guard. The third stood facing him, the bright light behind him casting his face into complete shadow. His shoes squeaked softly as he crossed to the center of the room, his dark blue robes hung loosely on a rather thin frame.  
  
"Good evening, Mr. Potter." he said slowly, drawling the words out as if he absolutely detested the name. His voice in itself wasn't all that threatening, it was soft and clear, rather like that of a lawyer or narrator. It wasn't the evil, cruel cackle one would expect of an interrogator, if that was indeed his occupation. "I must admit to a certain degree of excitement at finally meeting you face to face, even considering the circumstances." he admitted, turning slightly sideways on his heels. The light from the doorway reflected brightly in the whites of his eyes, only a tad bit of blue visible. His hair was a darkish color, cut close to his scalp. Harry couldn't tell much more about him, but then again, he didn't really care to either.  
  
"And...what are the circumstances, sir?" Harry asked softly, struggling to keep his voice as polite and unoffensive as possible. The man turned toward him again, and Harry could just detect the slight shadow of a smile.  
  
"Why, your death, of course. You would have been killed already, but the Minister thought it best that we wait, just in case we needed you for something. However, now he has all his paper-work in order, and you'll no longer be needed." he said calmly, and Harry blanched, scrunching further yet up against the wall, absently reaching for his missing wand.  
  
"M-my /death/?" he stuttered, acting as surprised as he possibly could. He'd known it a possibility, but he'd never expected it so /quickly/. He had to buy time somehow, just in the off chance that someone was on their way to his rescue...  
  
"Well, of course! What other fate is there for your kind?" the man added, and Harry was thankful to note that he didn't seem to be in any hurry, he seemed quite willing to talk, actually. Well, at least /one/ thing was going well....  
  
"My /kind/?! What do you mean? I don't have a k--" he began to protest weakly, and the man made a low `tsk'ing sound deep in his throat, shaking his head lightly.  
  
"Now, no need to lie. We already have undeniably proof as to what you are, /Serpent/." he said, the last word dripping with hate and disgust. Harry cringed in spite of himself. "We received an anonymous tip about a woman who apparently had some sort of important information....we wasted no time in apprehending her and questioning the woman with Veritaserum. She told us quite a tale, about your mother having been raped by a Death Eater, and your birth with the Mark. Her knowledge of the Mark is all the proof we need, since we already have /so/ much...." he said, laughing lightly at the last.  
  
"Wha--? I don't know what you're talking about!" Harry protested, but the man ignored him, apparently gaining great pleasure in taunting his prisoner.  
  
"Honestly, you're all the same...protesting till the last." he muttered, shaking his head again. "Do you honestly expect me to believe you after everything I've found out about you? I hope not, I'm not /that/ stupid." he muttered, and stepped forward a few steps, shortening the distance between the two. "Professor Dumbledore has hidden many things about you, Mr. Potter. If he'd had his way, no one would have even known that you were a parseltongue....a true sign of a Dark Wizard. And all those startling similarities between yourself and the Dark Lord....the wand, the power, hatred of muggles.." he began, but Harry stood up taller, eyes flashing with anger.  
  
"I do /not/ hate muggles!! Where did you ge--" he protested, but was silenced by a hard slap across his left cheek.  
  
"I've seen those muggle relatives of yours, heard how much your hate them. Do you know the Dark Lord hated his family, too? I doubt it wouldn't have been long until you killed them...blasted them away like your Master did to his and your parents. I wouldn't be surprised if the Dark Lord actually /spared/ you that night....perhaps it was all a show, perhaps he just wanted us all to believe you the hero....to bring you close inside the wizarding community, trust you, idolize you, play right into your claws for that fateful day when he would issue the first order. Not too far fetched a notion now, is it? I'm sure even you'll agree to that." he said, leaning closer. His breath was warm and putrid against Harry's stinging cheek, and he drew away, lips curling in disgust at the sight of the cruelly grinning face, inches from his own.  
  
"You don't know anything." he growled softly, and the man only laughed, finally stepping back slightly. Harry watched in horror as the man reached slowly inside his robes, and drew out a long, light colored wand. It was lifted in the air, the tip sliding slowly toward him in one long, taunting motion.  
  
"Oh, I know quite enough, let me assure you. For instance..." he said, and the tip of the wand flicked in a hauntingly familiar motion, one Harry relived in his nightmares each night..., "/Crucio/." the man hissed, and Harry instantly collapsed to the floor, spasming in that all too familiar agony. Vainly he struggled to block out the pain, the searing fire raging through every vein, every muscle, flowing in horrible waves that weakened his resolve further. His teeth were clenched tightly, eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught...he wanted to scream, but he kept his mouth shut, forcing the muscles of his throat to stay silent, to deny his tormentor the satisfaction. He couldn't hold out forever though, he realized that not ten seconds into the attack...and the pain kept coming, his hands kept twitching, muscles kept jerking his limbs closer to his chest. Death would have been sweeter, death would have been quicker than the fire.....than the pain....the man was laughing....  
  
----------------------------------------  
  
Severus Snape had never been more angry in his life as when he stood outside of the old stone structure known as the Magical Justice Department Detainment Center. It was where the most dangerous of criminals were sent to await trial.....he himself had spent weeks rotting in one of the cells, awaiting Dumbledore's testament to his innocence. The building was hidden in a forest far outside of London, hidden away both for safety and secrecy. Only a select few knew of it's location, and most of them were in Azkaban. Lucky me, Severus thought, and drew up the hood of his cloak. He began the trek toward the building slowly, mentally struggling to form a plan. It was true, he somewhat remembered the layout of the building (well, the cell-block at least), but that wouldn't help much if there happened to be any Aurors present. Normally the Aurors only captured Dark Wizards, leaving all other duties to the full time Ministry guards. Severus was pretty sure he could handle a few  
regular guards if there weren't too many, but facing off against an Auror was another story....He sincerely hoped that Harry hadn't been deemed a special case.  
  
Stopping near the wall, he paused, stretching out his senses. He didn't sense anything abnormal, everything seemed perfectly quiet....but that didn't necessarily mean much. The building itself was huge, five stories of gray stone and cement. If he remembered correctly, everything on the outside edge of the building was either offices, storage, or corridors. The prison cells were located in the center of the building, located in precisely the middle of each floor. Normally not many of the cells were filled, but that still left the problem of Harry's location once he entered the building. Undoubtedly alarms would sound the instant he passed to the prison block, and he'd have to act quickly. But then again....he wasn't a Potions Master for nothing....  
  
Squaring his shoulders in determination, Severus turned toward the large oaken doors that served as a secondary entrance, and opened the door an inch or two, pressing his cheek hard against the stone wall to peer inside. He was looking in on a long, stone hallway, everything was dark save for a dim light at the far end. It was one of the corridors....Gently pulling the door open a little wider, he slipped inside, wishing that he'd bothered to hunt down Harry's invisibility cloak before leaving Hogwarts. But then again, he needed to get the boy out as soon as possible, Severus didn't trust the Ministry within a foot of his life to take the proper `legal' steps.  
  
Softly closing the door, he strode further into the corridor, his footsteps soundless from years of necessity. He needed to find an office, or even a closet....someplace in the outer ring of the building where people frequented. Once he found then the rest would be much simpler...otherwise he'd just have to rush headlong into the fray. And /that/ just wasn't his style.  
  
He kept close to the wall as he crept down the corridor, eyes flicking back and forth and ears straining for even the slightest hint of voice or motion. He heard nothing, passing silently through the empty hallway, walls bare and cracked with age. After passing by two rooms (empty), he continued on, startled when he saw a light flicker at the far end of the corridor. Quickening his pace, he found the next door and carefully crept inside, heart beating madly with hope that it, too was empty. It was, for when he clicked the door shut behind him, the room was as pitch black as a midnight cloud.  
  
"Lumos" he whispered, and was thoroughly startled when he discovered precisely the type of room he'd been hoping for....an office, complete with desk, chair, and coat rack with accompanying business robe. Severus smiled darkly. It was amazing really, how such a simple room could be turned into the perfect tool for infiltration.....He was abruptly jerked from his thoughts by the sudden sound of a blood-curdling scream from somewhere deep in the building. It was Harry....  
  
----End Chapter 15------  
  
Notes:: Sorry I ended it there, but there'll be more tomorrow. And I know the Ministry is OOC, but there is a reason for it, trust me...MWAHAHAHA!!! Me and my secrets, hehe. Anyway, Thank you soo much for returning for yet another round of torture-by-literature!! And don't forget to 'speculate,' hehe..... 


	16. The Killer in Me

A Father's Sin

by Severitus

"The killer in me is the killer in you..."

Smashing Pumpkins

Chapter 16--The Killer in Me

The air was dank in the old house, weighted by the heavy scent of old wood and rotting furniture. The floor was caked with a thick layer of dust throughout most of the room, save for the trail of footprints leading from the hearth to the door. Empty bookshelves lined a few of the walls, long absent of their tomes and with shelves hanging lifelessly, drawing ever closer toward the earth. The only thing in the room that showed the barest sign of life were the flames of the fire, licking hungrily upward in a mysterious dance. Those flames were reflected with near perfection within two sets of eyes, one black and reptilian, the other crimson and demonic. The ashen face that belonged to those crimson eyes shifted suddenly, blinking as if waking from a trance. The eyes narrowed in thought, suddenly shifting their gaze to look toward the door.

"Wormtail." he snapped, and from the doorway crept the short and balding man that bore the name.

"Yes, Master?" he asked, his head cast toward the floor as he knelt near his master's high-backed chair.

"Have you brought me news of your progress?" he asked, reaching out a thin hand to pet the serpent sprawled across the arm of the chair.

"We-we've had no more progress yet, Master.." Wormtail stammered, scrunching closer to the floor under the crimson gaze turned fiercely upon him. The Dark Lord seemed to consider his servant for a moment, and then settled on narrowing his eyes.

"What about the Serpent's Children? How many have returned to us?" he asked, almost idly tapping the tip of his wand upon the edge of the chair.

"Twenty-three, Master, and counting. Your control over them appears to be absolute." Wormtail said, this time his voice firmer and containing a hint of pride. The Dark Lord smiled slightly, though it held as much good intention as a crocodile's.

"Good. It appears my plan was more successful than I'd anticipated, then...or perhaps...perhaps many of you took the initiative, outside of my orders...?" he asked, and Wormtail began shaking again, sweat beading upon his forehead in record time.

"Y-yes, Master. M-many of us t-took w-women outside of y-your orders..." he stammered, and Voldemort laughed darkly at the state of sheer terror his servant was in.

"Relax, Wormtail. It pleases me when my faithful can anticipate my demands. It will ensure our victory..." he said, and Wormtail looked up in surprise. "Now, return to your duties." he ordered, and Wormtail leapt to his feet, immediately backing toward the door.

"As you command," he answered.

"Oh, and Wormtail?" Voldemort began again, and his servant froze, one foot out the door. "Never bring me news of 'no progress' again. /Crucio/." he hissed, and the dank room was filled with the unearthly shrieks of torture.

----------------------

"Had enough, boy?" the man growled, his voice resonating with that same, malevolent quality as Dudley's before a well-aimed punch. The effect was nearly the same as well. Harry was kneeling on the floor, hands on his knees as he panted for breath. He couldn't move, couldn't even think clearly for that matter. Jaws clenched, he stared firmly at the stone beneath him, struggling to ignore the spasms of pain that ate away at his determination. The aftereffects of the Cruciatus wasn't the worst part of it all, though...it was the memories. Even now, they tugged at his mind, demanding to be seen, to be relived a thousand times and more. It was the graveyard, struggling to gain precedence over the real world, Cedric's cold and lifeless visage flickering over that of his tormentor. And then there was the Dark Lord, flesh shining crimson and raw as he was lowered into the cauldron, Harry's own blood running down his arm, and then Wormtail's agonized screams...

The sudden, sharp pain in his ribs snapped him out of it, soon followed by a wet, cracking sound as the shiny, black boot connected with his ribs a second time. "I asked you a question/Serpent/." the man barked, his eyes hard and sparkling with an odd pleasure.

"Does..it...matter?" Harry gasped, clutching his side, his throat raw from screaming. The man scowled then, the lines of his face fleeing into deeper shadow. Harry cracked a weak smile, he wouldn't be in pain much longer. Now, the man would kill him, end the pain, eliminate the risk he posed to the world...

"Oh no you don't, I'm not through with you yet." the man replied, briefly flicking his wand in front of him like a metronome. "It's been a long time since I've been allowed to torture a prisoner to my heart's content, and I'm /not/ going to let it go to waste." he finished, casting Harry a wicked smile of his own. He knew that sort of smile...it was Uncle Vernon's smile, and it was Lucius Malfoy's smile...and above the rest, it was Voldemort's smile...absolute, sadistic pleasure made flesh. Shivering, he tried to scoot away across the floor, ignoring the brilliant flare of pain from his side. It wasn't so much the man he was trying vainly to escape from, but rather it was that smile.

"Kill the spare." Voldemort hissed into the night, grinning madly at his captured prize Harry shivered at the memory, forcing his eyes painfully shut. He didn't want to remember the Dark Lord, or the other, deeper memory that surfaced because of that expression.

"I /know/ it was you, freak, don't you /dare/ lie to me, boy!" Vernon rumbled, his face redder and more angry than it had ever been before or since. Then he drew back one massive, meaty fist and let it fly. "No." Harry hissed quietly, shaking his head against the memory. Vernon had slapped him around plenty, there was no denying that...but he'd only /really/ hurt him twice, and the memory of each lay like an open wound in the back of his mind, bleeding forth a finger of pain each time it surfaced.

"'No,' what, boy? Pleading, are you?" the man laughed, inching closer to Harry's cringing form yet again. "Waiting for your /master/ to come rescue you?" he laughed again, and Harry looked up to glare at him. He didn't expect anyone to rescue him now...after all, he was pretty sure that no one even knew where he was. And then again, there was an even darker question, would anyone even /want/ to rescue him? He tried to tell himself that it was a stupid question, that of /course/ someone would want to rescue him...but he couldn't quench the doubt. What good would come of it, after all? Why bother to rescue something evil, when it would be safer to simply let it die? He almost wished that the man /would/ kill him then...wouldn't it be doing the world a favor, by ridding the world of one of Voldemort's creations? Yes, it probably would be, for even he himself couldn't predict what lay in his own future. The possibility of Voldemort gaining control of him really wasn't that far-fetched of an idea...and that more than anything else terrified him, caused his heart to sink further with growing despair. That worry and only one other thought had taken precedence over his mind during his short stay in the prison, and that other thought was of his father. He couldn't help but wonder if Snape would even be bothered or not by his death, if he'd pay it any more mind than a moment's contemplation. More than anything in the world Harry had always wanted his parents back, and now that he had one, he didn't even know if the man truly cared, even the tiniest bit. Snape /had/ tried, Harry realized that now. It hadn't been much, but Snape had managed to refrain from yelling or putting him down, but...Harry wanted more than that, he needed some sort of proof that Snape didn't regret the fact that he had a son. Now, it seemed that he'd never find out...

His scar twinged. Harry's eyes snapped open in an instant, one hand flying up automatically to touch the lightning shape. Almost an instant later, a second sensation followed...that same subtle tingling between his eyes he'd felt that very morning. He barely noticed it at first, preoccupied by the increasing pain in his scar...but then the tingling increased as well, developing an icy edge that slowly began to spread, leaving his flesh numb with the biting chill. 'No...not this...please, leave me alone...' he thought desperately, nearly begging out loud for his torturer to kill him before something happened. His vision began to darken then, he could feel the weight of something cold and heavy rising in his mind, surging down his spine like an electric current. He tried vainly to fight it off, to keep the image of the Ministry worker's leering face before his eyes, but it was useless, as if he were walking headlong into a hurricane...

"Stand up." the man suddenly ordered, but Harry didn't move. He couldn't, actually...he couldn't control anything anymore. Desperately he struggled to do something, to even simply close his eyes or draw a breath...but he couldn't, something else had taken over, even so far as to slow his breathing into deep, even inhalations that ignored the relentless pain of his broken ribs. Then his vision went out completely, and he was dimply aware of the sound of footsteps from the man. His hearing, strangely, remained perfectly intact, but all of his other senses had disappeared, he couldn't even feel the stone floor beneath him any longer, if indeed he was even still kneeling.

"What are you doing?" the man growled, and Harry could feel his limbs moving, shifting mechanically like the parts of a well-oiled machine as he rose from the floor.

"Stand aside. He is calling." he heard his own voice say flatly, the sound distant in his ears. 'Kill me, just kill me...' Harry thought desperately. He would /not/ serve the Dark Lord, he'd rather die than feel his own body kneeling before that monster, listening to himself grovel, dashing to and fro to commit scores of unspeakable atrocities...He /hated/ being so helpless, so utterly and completely without control of himself or the situation, he wanted it all to end...

"What! How dare you/Crucio!" the man yelled, and like magic the numbness dissipated, his vision suddenly flickering back from darkness to vague light. He could feel every wave of wretched pain, and for a brief moment he regained control of his limbs, and screamed like he never had before. The Cruciatus was at full power, but that was only the beginning...his scar was worse by far, and he knew then that if he'd been in complete control of himself he would have long been unconscious. Writhing on the floor, twitching and spasming, the ragged scream rose in intensity, sharp as glass as it echoed through the room. And then, suddenly, the Cruciatus ended, and the scream died down as he clenched his jaws, but he still couldn't move, more from the pain of his scar than any outside control. He could barely think around it, and the sight that met his half-opened eyes was mottled and distorted by the white-spots flickering and flashing with each flare of fresh agony.

Through the gray, muddled haze of his thoughts, he could hear some sort of struggle going on nearby, a few quickly shouted curses, the loud thumping of feet and something much heavier hitting the floor. Idly, he thought they must finally be ready to kill him. 'Let them come and watch...' he thought darkly, his vision fading in and out of clarity. He could still feel that darkness threatening to overwhelm him, resting just outside of the pain.

"Expelliarmus!" he heard a strange voice shout from somewhere near the door, and managed to crack his eyes open a bit wider in time to see a brief flash of light from around its edge. Then the new voice yelled another word, that Harry could barely make out as 'ventus,' and there was another, larger flash as a blue-cloaked figure was sent sailing past the doorway, crashing with a sickening 'thud' into some nearby wall. Vainly, Harry struggled to rise to his knees, succeeding only in twitching his muscles slightly. Had someone come to rescue him? His jumbled thoughts struggled to piece it together, to make sense of it...he /knew/ he'd never heard that voice before.

"Harry!" he heard that voice call out from next him...strange, he hadn't even heard their footsteps...Then a cool palm suddenly settled across his forehead, the owner hissing sharply at the feverish state of the flesh. Then the stranger whispered something softly, and the pain instantly died down, now the equivalent of a massive migraine. Slowly, he looked upward with a sigh of relief, struggling to raise his head enough to see his rescuer. "Stay still," the voice commanded, and Harry thought something about it seemed familiar. He did as he was told, and was rewarded by a strong pair of arms suddenly scooping him up from the ground. He hissed briefly in pain as his ribs shifted uncomfortably, but he kept his mouth clenched shut. As he was being lifted, he paused to wonder why the darkness hadn't yet risen in his mind, despite it's firm presence just beneath his thoughts. It was almost as if something was holding it at bay...

From his new position draped across his rescuer's arms, he could finally make out his face. At first, he was positive that it was indeed a stranger. He'd never seen the stocky, brown haired man before in his life, and yet...something seemed familiar. The eyes were the most familiar of all, predatory in the way they seemed to peer upon his very thoughts. And then there was the quick, stealthy way in which he performed each and every movement... Struggling to fight off the unconsciousness closing in on his vision, Harry stared harder, thoughts swirling madly. And then, after dragging in another painful breath, he knew who it was.

"...dad...?" he whispered, and before the darkness of unconsciousness closed in on his thoughts, he saw the strange face grow still, the eyes suddenly alive with shock and uncertainty. And then he was once again being carried speedily down a hallway, completely ignorant of the arms that tightened protectively around him.

--------End Chapter 16------

Ventus wind

Notes: don't worry, next chapter I'll reveal the details of how Snape snuck inside (though you probably already know...hehe) and there'll also be the long-awaited removal of the Glamourie!


	17. An Old Friend

Notes: This chapter is just to explain a few things, hope ya like it anyway. And again, thank you so much for reviewing! I got a wonderful reaction to last chapter, I was positively giddy all day!

A Father's Sin

by Severitus

Chapter 17--An Old Friend

The gentle rhythm of a crackling fire was the first sound that broke through the foggy darkness of sleep. Harry was lying upon something soft and cushioned, and he could feel the soft folds of a woolen blanket tucked loosely around him. It didn't feel like a bed, though...the cushion felt almost leathery, and behind him, more of the same...a couch, then? Shifting slightly, he grimaced as a flare of pain coursed through all the muscles involved in the movement; and he became aware of yet more peculiarities of his location. First, something warm and damp was pressed up against his forehead, the heat slowly easing away the pain and encouraging sleep. And the second thing, perhaps the most peculiar of the two, was that it was definitely not a pillow that his head rested upon. It was far too warm and firm to be a pillow, and yet, he couldn't have been happier anywhere else. For the moment, he was quite content to simply curl up on the couch against his 'pillow' and worry about the details later.

"He's awake." a voice said from someplace exceptionally close, and suddenly the warm, damp object (a cloth, most likely) was taken away. His 'pillow' also shifted slightly, startling Harry enough so that he tried to open his eyes, no longer content to bask in the dark warmth of sleep. Slowly, his thoughts began to piece themselves back together, and he realized at last what his 'pillow' indeed was. Even now his ears could pick out a soft, even breathing from nearby...for his 'pillow' was not a some/thing/ as he'd first assumed, but rather, a some/one/.

"Albus, don't you think he'd be better off in the hospital wing...?" a familiar voice asked from across the room, and as his vision finally cleared of the odd, white fog...he realized with a brilliant smile precisely who had said the last. Sitting in one of two armchairs was none other than Remus Lupin. But still...even with his eyes open he didn't recognize the room they were in...the fireplace behind the two armchairs was large and ornate, topped with a pair of jade statues (a lion and a serpent) and an antique muggle clock. The walls were of dark stone, a few darkened by trails of moisture.

"Harry?" a second familiar voice asked, and turning his head slightly, he recognized the form of Headmaster Dumbledore leaning forward from the second armchair. If Dumbledore was over there, and they wasn't in the Hospital Wing, then whose lap was his 'pillow'...?

"Can you speak?" the nearby voice asked, and Harry nearly jerked in surprise when he realized just whose voice it was.

"Professor...?" he asked weakly, struggling to turn his head enough to see his father's face. Unfortunately, his muscles didn't seem willing to move much at all. A firm hand then settled gently on his shoulder, encouraging him to lie still.

"Stay still," Snape said, his voice surprisingly calm yet authoritative at the same time.

"What's...going on...?" Harry managed, "Remus...?" he said, and the werewolf cast him a warm smile, the firelight reflecting brightly in his eyes.

"Due to the circumstances...I thought it best for you not to stay in the Hospital Wing, quite yet, anyway. We've had to keep that rag on your forehead to ease down the fever from your scar..." Dumbledore said, pausing to set aside the rolled parchment he'd held in his hand. "Poppy came down earlier and did what she could for you, but I'm afraid it will still be a day or two before you've fully recovered...you were under the Cruciatus for quite a long time." he finished, and Harry blinked at him, again attempting to glance behind at the still, dark figure. So it /hadn't/ been a dream then...the fierce pain of his scar, the cold, numbing weight of Voldemort's power...and then finally being rescued...

"Came...down..?" he asked in curiosity, and Snape shifted slightly beneath him, apparently turning to glance down at him.

"Yes, these are my rooms, just beyond the Slytherin dormitories." Snape replied. His tone was strangely guarded as he spoke, and Harry was sincerely surprised on two counts when the hand lifted from his shoulder and gently moved a lock of hair from his face...a lock of /long/ hair. His eyes widened in surprise, and both Remus and Dumbledore smiled slightly.

"We took the spell off just in case the Ministry happened to show up, and Albus wanted to have a closer look at that Mark of yours." Remus replied, and Harry turned a second shocked and slightly ashamed expression toward the old DADA professor.

"You know...?" he asked weakly, unconsciously curling further up against Snape's thigh. Beneath him, the muscle tensed...but the man said nothing. Remus nodded slightly, casting him a warm, reassuring smile.

"Albus sent me an urgent owl, and explained everything to me while we waited for you and Severus to return." he replied, unable to keep the soft smile from his face as he watched to two figures on the couch. Severus was sitting a little stiffly, obviously completely unused to and nervous about being in such close contact with another human being. Harry on the other hand, didn't seem to mind so much at all, he looked tired and confused, if anything. It really was an unusual scene, and Remus was quite sure that Sirius would have been laughing his head off if he were there, and it happened to not be his Godson with his head propped comfortably on the Potion Master's lap. For some reason, Remus wasn't surprised at all by Harry's new look, in fact, it really did seem to suit him better...though he knew Sirius would probably throw a fit when (if) he ever found out about everything. Remus himself had been shocked by the fact the Severus was Harry's father more than anything...he didn't even want to imagine what it would do to poor Padfoot... "How /did/ you get him out of there, Severus?" Remus asked, trying his best to sound as friendly and unobtrusive as possible. The Potions Master flicked his black gaze up suddenly, eyebrows steeped with annoyance at first...but then the gaze flicked briefly down to the dark head nestled against him, and the annoyance disappeared.

"Polyjuice." he answered shortly, and reached his free hand inside the folds of his cloak and brought out a small, leather pouch. "I tend to carry around a few useful potions. Polyjuice, Veritaserum, and a few basic healing draughts and the like." he said, and then slid the small pouch back inside one hidden pocket or another. "I was lucky that Fudge counts more upon the obscurity of the compound rather than the security. There were only three guards present in Harry's portion of the prison block...and all quite poorly trained. I was able to convince one that I was his replacement, and the other two were taken care of easily enough." he finished quickly, obviously not viewing the manner of any real importance. Remus closed his mouth on a reply, and cast a helpless glance toward Dumbledore, who seemed to be viewing the situation with a detached sort of amusement.

"Cornelius obviously has other uses for his Aurors at the moment, then..." Dumbledore said thoughtfully, and then drew in a deep, sighing breath.

"Headmaster...?" Harry asked, and the old wizard looked up, his bright blue eyes sparkling with concern. "What...happens now? I mean...the Ministry'll be...looking for me..." he managed, grimacing slightly again at the effort it took to voice his question. The Headmaster's warm smile faded slightly, and he leaned back in his chair with another deep sigh.

"I have plan, Harry...that Remus here has agreed to help me with if you agree to it." he said, and Harry could sense Snape tensing with surprise. "We really don't have many options...with the Ministry searching for you, it would be impossible for you to remain at school here for long. They'd undoubtedly have you back again within a few days at the most...and simply hiding out is out of the question if you intend to continue with school this year. There really is only one other option..." he said, and Harry shifted slightly, managing to turn his head just enough to watch the Headmaster directly, "you see, Harry, the Ministry can only recognize you on the basis of your name and your appearance. Without the Glamourie, they'd never recognize you." Dumbledore said, and Harry looked at him in confusion.

"Are you suggesting that he assume a new identity?" Snape asked, his voice colored with a hint of incredulity. Dumbledore smiled lightly, and Remus cast him a knowing glance.

"That I am. He could easily pose as a transfer student, and neither the Ministry nor Voldemort would be any the wiser," Dumbledore said, and both Snape and Harry continued to stare at him in disbelief.

"But with the timing...they'd undoubtedly be suspicious," Snape said, and again Dumbledore and Remus shared the 'look.'

"Now /that/ is why Remus is here...but we'll speak of the rest tomorrow...4 a.m. is hardly the time to be plotting and planning," the Headmaster said, and both he and Lupin rose from their chairs and stepped nearer to the couch. "Harry, let's get a pillow under you so that your father can get a little well-deserved sleep too." he said, and Harry struggled to lift his head and Snape shifted out from beneath him, the warm presence replaced by that of a very soft down pillow. Almost instantly he missed the unusual closeness and warmth, the strange, welcome feeling of safety...He knew he should have found it unusual to find such comfort with the stone-cold Professor, but he didn't want it to end...

"Good night, Harry...it's good to see you again." Remus said as he and the Headmaster drifted out of view, each smiling reassuringly.

"'night.." he mumbled in reply, barely able to keep his drooping eyelids open. He listened as the door closed behind them, echoing around the large chamber. Snape returned a moment later, and Harry saw his face for the first time since they'd argued. Dark circles were etched beneath his normally cold eyes, his face pale and deeply lined with lack of sleep. He stood awkwardly near the end of the couch, his tired black eyes staring down at him in a mix of concern and uncertainty.

"My room is through the door at the back of the room...I'll be able to hear you if you need anything." he said, and Harry nodded, a small smile playing across his lips.

"Thank you..." he said, and the black gaze that had been directed elsewhere suddenly fixed back on him once again, "For saving me and everything." he finished, and Snape shifted uneasily, and then lightly cleared his throat.

"You're welcome," he replied, and Harry allowed his eyes to fall shut, burying his head up into the soft pillow. The crackling of the fire was soothing, gently coercing him back down toward sleep. There was too much to bother thinking about at the moment...worrying could be saved until morning. A warm touch suddenly grazed across his cheek, smoothing back another errant lock of hair before drawing reluctantly away again. Harry smiled to himself then, listening as the door to the back room clicked quietly shut. And then, for the first time since his world had been turned upside down, he drifted off into a peaceful sleep, finally free of his nightmares.

---------------End Chapter 17-------------------

Notes: Don't worry, next chapter I'll take a dive into Harry, Remus, and Severus' thoughts about the whole thing (especially Sev's, boy is his head going to be reeling!) and hopefully we'll get back into a bit of the Animagus part of the story...but no promises on taht one


	18. Morning

Notes:: You know how I said I'd be taking a big dive into all their thoughts this chapter? Well...I lied. That'll be /next/ chapter. This one is sortof just a weird thing, with a little bit of thought and a little bit of explanation. ::shrug:: oh well, that's how it came out. Thanks again to everybody that reviewed!!!!  
  
Q's: Okie dokie, some of you asked about Sirius.....he'll be showing up later on, but not real soon. I'm not sure exactly when he'll pop up quite yet, but I fully intend to get him in here eventually.  
  
A Father's Sin  
  
by Severitus  
  
Chapter 18--Morning!  
  
The first thing Harry noticed upon waking was the fact that he was no longer in any serious pain. For a moment he chose to simply lie there, drawing the woolen blanket further up against his chin and sinking further back into the cushions of the couch. It had been a long time since he'd gone an entire night without nightmares, and he found that he felt much more rested than usual. Strangely, the first thought to cross his mind was that it was now Saturday....For once, however, it was not a comforting thought, for it was also his first day as a fugitive from the Ministry.  
  
With a silent yawn, Harry struggled against the soreness in his limbs to sit up on the couch, for the first time noticing that his outer robe had been removed, though he was still dressed in his black slacks and gray shirt. A soft rustling noise suddenly gained his attention, and Harry turned his head around to get his first look at the rest of the room. It was a large living room, for the most part oddly homey looking despite the dark chill of the dungeon atmosphere. All of the bookshelves (there were many), tables and chairs were made of rich wood, all carved in some ornate manner or another. Tapestries hung upon a few of the walls and lay across much of the floor, most likely guarding against the cold stone. An old fashioned globe sat off in one corner of the room, accompanied by a brass telescope and a few other bizarre instruments...all in all, it wasn't quite what Harry had expected. And finally, seated lazily at a round table set off in the far corner was Snape, a cup  
of tea in one hand, and the other absently tracing across some article in the Daily Prophet spread on the table before him. A few dishes of various breakfast items sat on the table, one such plate sitting partially emptied just next to the newspaper. Curiously, a clean plate sat directly across the table from him, a few pieces of impeccably shiny silverware glinting from beside it. Pausing a moment to watch the scene, Harry allowed himself a small smile. This was, after all, the first time he'd ever seen Snape having breakfast without a deadly scowl fixed on his face. Almost mechanically, Harry rose unsteadily from the couch, taking a moment to lightly stretch out his arms and legs before proceeding to neatly fold the blanket atop the pillow. When he finally turned back around, Snape was watching him with a mild interest, as if he found the simple task of him folding the blanket unusual.  
  
"Dumbledore had one of the House elves bring you down breakfast and a fresh set of clothing, they're on the table by the door. The bathroom is straight through on the right." Snape said, and then quickly returned his gaze to the Prophet. Harry nodded to himself and began the painful trek across the room, struggling to keep his gait and expression as normal as possible. It seemed to take forever just to cross the small room, but he eventually made it to the small, square table by the bedroom door and claimed the neatly folded clothing; a black turtleneck, black jeans, black robe, and even a pair of black socks were included. Harry gaped for a moment, idly wondering if there was some strange correlation between the dungeons and black clothing....Shrugging indifferently, he opened the door that led to the bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
The room was almost completely empty. Aside from the large, dark crimson, four-poster bed, a nightstand, and a tall dresser, the entire room was bare. There were no wall-hangings, no figurines, and no rugs of any kind...there was absolutely nothing ornamental about the room...unless you considered the meticulously carved mantle above the fireplace...a bare mantle, albeit. Blinking away his surprise, Harry turned toward the bathroom, which, just the same as the room, was nearly bare. It was a fairly large room, with a long countertop with two deep sinks carved of gray marble, and a positively huge bathtub and shower at the far end of the room. A few of the typical items lay strewn upon the countertop....a comb and toothbrush, razor, a bar of soap, and a few folded towels....nothing out of the ordinary. However, Harry found himself almost smiling at the objects on the counter, they seemed to provide some sort of undeniable proof that somewhere under his stone-cold shell Snape  
indeed was, a human.  
  
Setting the folded clothing upon the countertop, Harry paused upon noticing an unusual lump between the articles of clothing. Upon inspection, he discovered it to be an oddly shaped leather pouch, shaped so because concealed within was his own comb, toothbrush, bar of soap, and what appeared to be a tiny bottle of shampoo. Taking the soap and shampoo, he crossed the room and turned on the shower, dragging a clean towel over to set beside the entrance. He needed one desperately...he could still feel the sweat and grime from the jail cell clinging to his skin, caked beneath his nails from clawing at the floor in pain. Shivering at the memory, he quickly stripped down and stepped into the shower, immediately sighing in relief under the spray of hot water.  
  
The water felt just as good as any healing potion, instantly soothing away the aches and pains that seemed to exist within every muscle. He stood there with his eyes closed, allowing the water to flow freely against his face, dampening the hair that began to feel strangely heavy against his neck. Pausing to steel his nerves, he shoved the hair roughly away from his face, trying to keep his mind on the task at hand. Then he set to work, with the aid of the soap and shampoo thoroughly scrubbing away every last bit of grime. He finished quickly, turning off the water and then drying off with the large, fluffy white towel. With it wound tightly around his waist, he snatched up the comb and finally stood (bravely) before the mirror above the sink.  
  
A few bright scars stood out from the pale flesh of his arms and chest, most white and smooth with age and a few a light, fresh pink. The majority of them were thanks to Dudley and his friends, with the few remaining gained from Quidditch. But one in particular drew his eyes like a flame...a long, smooth scar situated just across his forearm in a hasty arc. Angrily, he turned his gaze away from his arm and back to the mirror, forcing himself to face the present rather than the past. He was thankful to find that though his face was completely different, the rest of his body didn't appear to be too much different than before. He was still thinner than he should have been, the line of his ribs was visible the same as before beneath his pale skin. He /was/ taller than before by at least several inches, probably coming to about the same height as Ron. Again shaking his head in frustration, he raised the comb and began a clumsy battle with the various knots and tangles. All the  
while he kept staring at himself in the mirror, unable to shake the sense of wrongness at the image staring back at him from the glass.  
  
"Don't be so rough," the mirror chided suddenly, and Harry snorted indignantly, continuing with the battle until his comb slid smoothly over every strand of hair. He didn't even pause to inspect the final product before abruptly turning and beginning the task of dressing in the clean clothing. When at last he'd shouldered the robe on top the shirt and slacks, he glanced back into the mirror for one final glimpse of his 'new' self.  
  
"Well, there's certainly no denying it now, is there?" he asked himself, frowning at the dark reflection. If he'd thought he looked like Snape before, the resemblance was now blatantly obvious. Dressed completely in black from head to foot, he imagined that even a blind man wouldn't miss the connection. This was how he'd have to look from now on, he thought darkly, eyeing his sharper features with a mixture of fear and bitterness. Green eyes flashing, he angrily shoved the damp hair out of his face, tucking it securely back behind his ears. He knew he didn't have much of a choice about having to keep the glamourie spell off, but he still hated it. He hated having to completely give up the reflection he'd known for fifteen years, and that wasn't even the beginning of it. It was nearly his entire life that now had to be changed...not only his appearance, but also his very identity, probably even his name. That wasn't something he wanted to dare and think about just yet, it  
brought up far too many questions. The lightning bolt scar was now plainly visible, no longer hidden by a curtain of hair, and he stared at it for a moment, relishing that one, remaining piece of his former appearance. The Mark he completely ignored, instead choosing to turn and deposit his dirty clothes in a nearby laundry basket for the house elves to collect, and darted quickly from the room.  
  
Snape was still seated at the table when Harry returned, glancing over the last page of the newspaper and holding a fresh cup of tea in his hand. He looked up briefly when Harry entered the room, his eyes widening briefly in surprise. A moment later it was gone, face returned to a neutral expression.  
  
"Lupin and the Headmaster will arrive in about half an hour," he said, his gaze fixed firmly on the boy as he sat down across the table. It was impossible to properly describe what he felt as he watched the boy, though it could be rightly said that fear was the foremost feeling. Harry looked so much like him now, it was positively amazing. Struggling against the odd tightness in his chest, Severus returned his gaze to the newspaper, lowering the slightly trembling cup of tea to the table. His eyes traveled over the words and images on the parchment before him, but he wasn't seeing the words or grasping their meaning. Instead, his thoughts kept returning to the previous night, to the two singular events that had served to further the already rampant confusion in his mind. The first chord had been struck by the uttering of a single word, one that he'd never imagined even in his wildest dreams to ever be used in reference to himself. Something about the word 'dad' being uttered  
from his son's lips caused even his own cold heart to stop for a moment, forcing the boy that sat across the table from him into a strange, new light. That single, tiny word had almost instantly inspired a subtle warm feeling deep in his chest, and a moment later a wash of possessiveness. The feeling remained even now....that was /his/ child nervously eating his breakfast.../his/. And then there had been the odd occurrence earlier that morning, after Poppy had left with explicit instructions to keep down the boy's fever. Severus had refused to let anyone else do the job, surprising himself in the process. He was sure that he'd caught Dumbledore smiling at him proudly for the action, but he'd ignored it completely. It certainly hadn't been easy to get so close to someone....he preferred to keep his distance from people if at all possible. But that had been....different. He hadn't been able to help himself from staring at the boy the entire time, feeling the thin body and head  
of soft hair rested comfortably against him.  
  
A sudden knocking on the door snapped him out of his half trance, and he idly waved one hand in the air to open the door. "Come in," he muttered, slightly annoyed that his chain of thought had been broken. The door creaked open, and both he and Harry watched as Albus Dumbledore stepped into the room, with an exact replica of Harry Potter trailing behind, right down to the glasses and lightning bolt scar.  
  
"Good morning Severus, Harry." Dumbledore said as the two approached the table, each plopping down in one of the untaken chairs.  
  
"Uh...morning, Professor..." Harry muttered, still gaping at the `fake' Harry. Snape remained silent, watching the two with confusion and slight apprehension.  
  
"Feeling better, I hope?" Dumbledore asked with a smile, and Harry nodded dumbly, watching as the imposter smiled at him in amusement.  
  
"Yes, quite a bit, thanks..." he answered, and Dumbledore finally laughed out loud at the continued surprise. Not even glancing away from the table, Dumbledore flicked his wand to the side and tapped the imposter briefly on top of the head. After a brief flash of light, they were met with the sight of a brightly smiling Remus Lupin.  
  
"So /that's/ how you planned to get around the timing problem...." Snape suddenly muttered, casting a look of approval over the Headmaster and werewolf.  
  
"Quite right, Severus. After all, who would suspect a transfer student of being `Harry Potter,' when they've been seen together in the same room?" Dumbledore answered with a smile, and Lupin nodded firmly, leaning back in his chair with a smile.  
  
"But what if he gets caught?" Harry asked, casting Lupin a worried glance.  
  
"I won't, we hadn't planned on doing it for long. All we have to do is show up to a few meals together, and no one will question you. Albus plans on making an announcement as well, to inform the school of their new classmate. Once that's done, I'll disappear and Albus will announce that you had to return home for the remainder of the year, due to an emergency with your relatives." Remus answered, and Dumbledore continued where he'd left off.  
  
"And before you ask about the Ministry, Remus and I have devised the perfect story for that as well. Should they ask, I never received their letter regarding your absence, and we never realized that you were gone. We shall inform them of your `family emergency' as well. If they bother to question the Dursleys, then they'll just be left to assume that you slipped off the train home to join with Voldemort. The Ministry would assume that Voldemort intercepted their letter to me, and sent someone to rescue you. Although, I doubt that they'd question us on how you escaped the prison and returned to us in the first place, as that would be forcing them to reveal that they'd taken you against your will and without my consent. Quite a nice plan, wouldn't you agree?" Dumbledore said with a smile, and Harry grinned at the odd twinkle in the old man's eyes.  
  
"Sometimes I forget just how devious you can be, Albus." Severus said, and Harry was surprised to see a smile crossing his lips. The Headmaster's grin broadened, and he gave Remus and light pat on the back.  
  
"Well, I can't take all the credit. Remus assisted me in perfecting that glamourie spell and on a few of the finer points." Dumbledore said, and then turned a much more serious expression toward Harry. "Now, I need to know if you wish to partake in this or not, Harry. If you have any doubts, we could always try to hide you..."  
  
"No," Harry said firmly, his eyes shining brightly with conviction, "I'll do it, any other way could put one of you in too much danger with the Ministry. And I really do want to stay in school." he said, and the Headmaster beamed at him proudly.  
  
"You do understand that it will change quite a few things..."  
  
"Yes, I know." Harry said, his eyes cast toward the table top.  
  
"Very well. We'll begin this evening then, if that is alright with you. I have to wait for a friend of mine to arrive with the proper paperwork before you can be properly enrolled."  
  
"That's fine....it'd probably be safer to do it sooner anyway." Harry muttered, still staring at the tabletop.  
  
"I quite agree. Now, I must be off. Unfortunately, Headmaster's don't get to have the weekends off." he said, and rose from the table, giving Harry an encouraging pat on the back. He smiled briefly, but didn't look up from the table until he realized that Lupin was still sitting. Snape, noticing the same, instantly turned his former expression into the predictable scowl. He'd put up with the werewolf, but he certainly didn't want him hanging around his rooms any longer than necessary.  
  
"Would you like to come up for a game of chess, Harry? I'm sure Ron and Hermione would like to see that you're well, too." Remus said, and Harry instantly perked up. Snape's scowl deepened further, if possible.  
  
"Sure! But...what do I do if somebody sees me? I don't have a....new name or anything, yet...." he said, and Remus smiled deviously.  
  
"They won't, trust me." he said, and raised a hand from beneath the table, clutching a very familiar cloak. Harry smiled broadly, only sparing a brief thought for the deep, almost jealous scowl crossing his father's face.  
  
----------------End Chapter 18---------  
  
Notes: Okay, next chapter there'll be more thought...namely from Remus, Harry, and Severus. Sorry not much happened this chapter...it just came out that way. And don't worry about Sev, he hasn't gone soft.....next chapter he'll prove that he's just as vindictive as ever. ~.^  
  
More Notes:: Okay, since a lot of people seem to be wondering if I'm a boy or a girl...I've decided to ask you all what you think. So, what am I? And no cheating by sneaking off and investigating or anything. Just based on my writing....am I male or female? Hehe..... 


	19. Reassurance

IMPORTANT:: Okay, I was reading back through it and noticed that I left a little something out of `the plan'...I'd forgotten that the Ministry sent Albus a letter about taking Harry...so that changes it slightly. I'll go back and fix it shortly...but until then, this is what should be changed. Should the Ministry show up, Albus'll just claim he never received the letter. And they, of course, can happily assume that Voldemort intercepted it. (and thus sent someone to rescue Harry...hehe.) See? It still works!  
  
Notes:: Just to let y'all know, the angst/turmoil etc in this story is most certainly not finished. I'm not kidding when I say this has got a long way to go yet. While I honestly intend for this story to have a happy ending (face it, they're the best kind) the road there is going to be a long, bumpy, river-crossing, cliff-climbing, boulder-dodging ride.  
  
Thanks: I want to send a special thank you to Winkys-Conscience for unintentionally giving me a way to keep Lupin in the picture...hehe. Originally I'd intended for Harry to just face the whole ordeal alone, y'know, drive him to the brink of insanity and all that, but your mention of 'counseling' inspired something a little bit different. So, thanks a bunch to you, and to everybody that reviewed!  
  
A Father's Sin  
  
by Severitus  
  
Chapter 19--Reassurance  
  
Harry was positive that he'd never once seen the hallway Remus was leading him down. He'd followed the man through a seemingly obscure doorway behind an old suit of armor, and they were suddenly in a low, narrow hallway that looked as if it hadn't been used in ages. The floor was entirely covered by long, dark red carpeting, accented by a bench or small table here and there. There were also a few doors, but Remus spared none even a passing glance. They were nearing a larger door at the end of the hallway when Harry finally dared to ask where they were going.  
  
"Um...where are we going, exactly...?" he asked, and Remus jumped slightly in surprise, slowing to a stop in the hallway.  
  
"Oh...I'm sorry Harry, you can take the cloak off now." he said apologetically, his eyes unconsciously searching for the invisible figure. A moment later Harry appeared just behind him, carefully folding the cloak beneath his arm. "We're in the guest wing, it's only accessible when there's a need for it. My room's on the floor just above." he answered as they continued down the hallway yet again. Lupin hadn't stopped smiling even once the entire trip, Harry noticed with curiosity, and even as he stood aside to open the heavy door into the stairwell, his expression was a bright one.  
  
"Does Sirius know?" Harry asked suddenly, partially because that very thought had been tugging incessantly at his thoughts, and also because he wanted to see just how deep Lupin's smile went. Predictably, the smile faded, and Remus dropped his hand from the open door, his robes rustling lightly from a draft of air from the stairwell.  
  
"No," he answered, his gaze averted toward the door, "He was off on a mission for the Headmaster when I left, and we thought it best to leave the matter up to you. We can talk to him if you like, but...we were going to wait to ask you 'til things had settled down a bit." Remus answered, and Harry finally caught a glimpse of the what the werewolf was /really/ feeling. Sadness was the primary feature that shone in his deep, brown eyes, but what confused Harry was the odd hint of understanding that shown through his features as well.  
  
"How come you're being so nice?" Harry asked, and the sadness in Remus' eyes seemed to deepen just a little bit more. Harry stared at him fixedly, the second, unspoken question hanging in the air between them. James Potter had been Remus' friend, and Severus Snape had been his enemy....so why was he still being nice? Why was he keeping up the pretense that nothing had changed, when everything had?  
  
"Because I like you , Harry. You're a good kid, with a good heart." he said, and finally looked Harry in the eye, his brown gaze open and honest. "Sometimes things happen to change our lives completely, Harry, and it's never easy....but sometimes it's the things that /don't/ change that help us to survive." he finished, and smiled at the faintly surprised expression on Harry's face. He smiled wider and gave him a mighty pat on the back, snapping him out of his thoughts. Then he was through the doorway and ascending the spiraling stairwell, leaving Harry to rush to catch up. Harry smiled then, taking the steps two at a time. It was no wonder he'd always thought Lupin a cool teacher, he thought, and stepped out of the stairwell into yet another long hallway.  
  
"Come on, then," Remus said, and they entered an open doorway just to the left of the stairwell. The room inside was gorgeous, though not incredibly large. A tall four poster bed sat on the right side of the room, rich purple drapes hung carefully from above. There was a small fireplace as well, with a pair of comfortable looking chairs in front of it, along with a small table topped by an ancient looking chess set. "Well? What're you waiting for?" Remus asked as he plopped down in one of the chairs, watching Harry as he took in the room.  
  
"Not a thing," Harry replied, carefully avoiding the mirror by the door on his way to the second chair. He mimicked Remus in throwing his outer robe across the back of the chair, and sat back for a predictably tragic game of chess. Remus made the first move, asking his leftmost pawn to move two steps forward. The piece didn't move immediately, instead taking a moment to yawn, stretch, and shake the dust from its shoulders before trudging reluctantly forward. Harry went next, his pawn making a similar move. "Er...Remus?" Harry asked after a few turns, raising his eyes from the chessboard.  
  
"Yeah?" the older wizard said, halting his contemplation of the now rather busy chess board as well.  
  
"I just want to thank you, for helping with everything....and for not freaking out." Harry said, nervously scratching the back of his neck. Remus cracked a smile and then nudged a pawn further across the board.  
  
"You're welcome," he replied with a large smile, though it fell a little when Harry's knight proceeded to bash his rook into several pieces. "I'll admit finding out that Severus is your father came as a bit of a shock, but I'm not about to abandon my favorite student over an old school rivalry." he said, smiling in satisfaction as his bishop took out Harry's knight. "How are you two getting along?" he asked, watching Harry expectantly. Harry shrugged and idly pushed around the remains of his knight.  
  
"Neither one of us really knows what to do...I mean, he's been trying, and sometimes I start to think that maybe he really /does/ care, but....I don't know." Harry muttered, and Remus nodded as if that was precisely what he'd expected.  
  
"Give it time, Harry. Severus has never been very open with people, and as far as I know he's never really had much of a family, neither have you for that matter. You're both treading new ground." Remus said, leaning back to fold his hands in his lap. Harry only nodded in reply, his eyes glazing over slightly with thought.  
  
"You're right, Remus...I just....I just wish that none of this had happened...." Harry muttered, lowering his head and closing his eyes.  
  
"Change is always hard," Remus muttered, his eyes drifting back as if into some distant memory, "and it's not just Severus that has to work on his attitude, you know." he continued, and Harry looked up in surprise, forehead creasing with confusion. "You've never had a father before Harry, just as he's never had a son. You two have got to help each other out, give a little leeway if you will, if either of you is ever going to be able to adjust. Rome wasn't built in a day, after all." Remus said, his mouth curving into a slight smile at the last. Harry kept his eyes fixed on the chessboard, comprehension slowly bleeding across his features and erasing the confusion. He opened his eyes as another emotion began to cross his features, regret.  
  
"I shouldn't have gotten so angry at him...." he muttered, and Remus cocked an eyebrow in inquiry. "Yesterday we were talking down in his office....and I sort of stormed off." he said mournfully, and was genuinely surprised by the amused smile that crossed Remus' face.  
  
"See? You're acting like a proper family already!" he said with a chuckle, and Harry laughed at the bright twinkle in his eyes. Leave it to Lupin to lighten the mood. "Don't worry about it Harry, Albus said he'd have a talk with Severus this morning, he'll make sure that he understands."  
  
"Okay..." Harry said, and leaned forward in his chair, eyes flicking momentarily down toward the chessboard. "Check," he said, a mischievous twinkle brightening the dark swirl within his green eyes.  
  
"Wha..? Oh no you don't...." Remus replied, cracking his knuckles as if in preparation for a fist fight. "Aha! Now see who's in check!" he said, after adjusting the position of his surviving rook. Harry looked aghast.  
  
"Huh? In /one/ move?" he said, eyes wide with disbelief. After a moment of studying the board, he groaned and moved his king to the right. Remus was smiling wickedly with some devious plan of attack or another, when the door to the room squeaked open.  
  
"Harry!" Ron's excited voice called as he dashed into the room, Hermione close at his heels.  
  
"Hi Professor Lupin!" Hermione called as she carefully closed the door behind them.  
  
"Hello, you two. And please, it's just Remus now." Remus said, waving off the title with one hand.  
  
"Morning, Ron, Hermione." Harry said, smiling a bit uneasily. It was great to see his friends, but he couldn't help but wonder if they'd be able to see each other for much longer. Dumbledore hadn't gone into much detail about the whole `new identity,' scenario, but Harry was pretty sure it'd effect his friendships in a not so positive way. Briefly shaking his head to clear it of the unhappy thoughts, he straightened in his chair and forced himself to smile wider. He could always worry later.  
  
"You look like somebody died...." Ron said suddenly, his eyes drifting over Harry's all-black clothing. Harry gave a short laugh and rolled his eyes.  
  
"Blame the House elves." he muttered, and Ron nodded, strangely relieved.  
  
"How are you? Dumbledore said that you were injured...." Hermione said as Ron pulled over a pair of extra chairs from across the room. Harry shrugged idly in reply.  
  
"I'm okay, still pretty sore though. Whatever Madam Pomfrey did last night really fixed me up." he said, and Hermione visibly relaxed.  
  
"The House elves will be bringing up lunch later on, if you'd all like to stay for it you're welcome to." Remus said, and Ron and Hermione each smiled in gratitude as they sat down.  
  
"Thanks! That'd be great!" Ron said, nearly beaming, though Harry could feel himself being stared at again.  
  
"We each brought you something, Harry....as a sort of get well gift." Hermione said, and Harry looked up, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. She stuck one hand down in her robe pocket and pulled out what looked like a long piece of black velvet. "It's for your hair." she explained as he took it from her hand.  
  
"Thanks, Hermione." he said with a smile, and began attempting to tie back his hair....unsuccessfully.  
  
"Here, let me." Hermione said, rising from her chair. A few brief seconds later and his hair was tied neatly back at the base of his neck, with the exception of a few shorter strands that still hung persistently in his face. His scar was now plainly visible, no longer hidden behind a curtain of dark locks. Nevertheless, Harry decided he liked it much better that way, it was closer to the short hair he was used to.  
  
"Thanks." he said again, as Hermione took her seat with a proud smile.  
  
"Leave it to Hermione to be practical." Ron said with a roll of his eyes, and then dove down inside his own pocket for something. "I got you these..." he said, holding forth an offering of several chocolate frogs (surprisingly unopened.)  
  
"Thank you, Ron. I promise to let you see the cards first." Harry said, and Ron instantly broke into a renewed grin.  
  
"Checkmate." Remus said suddenly, and Harry groaned when he looked back at the chessboard. Remus was smiling smugly, as a few of his chess pieces did a miniature victory dance across the board.  
  
"Oooh, you're playing chess? Can I play you?" Ron asked Remus suddenly.  
  
"Sure." he answered, and both Harry and Hermione cast Remus a look that clearly said he'd just sentenced his pieces to a most painful death.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Severus Snape prowled slowly down the dark dungeon hallway, heading toward his office to immerse himself in work of some sort of another. He needed desperately to busy his mind, to somehow distract himself from recent events, and so far everything he'd tried had failed. Something always brought his mind right back to same, predictable spot.  
  
"Damn that bloody werewolf...." he muttered darkly, quickening his pace down the dark halls. Difficult as it was to admit it...he hadn't wanted the Harry to go with Lupin. He'd wanted a chance to try and talk to him again, perhaps dredge up enough courage to ask him about the previous night. He was pretty sure the boy had been just short of delirious when he'd called him `dad'.....but he needed to know. The word was magic in the power it seemed to hold, in the desire it gave him to perhaps try a bit harder. And then the werewolf had come prancing along and carried him off with a smile. How did it come so easily to Albus and Lupin? Without any effort at all they were able to bring comfort and understanding, to change a mood with a few simple, well-spoken words. True, he could terrify with a mere glance....but it was hardly the same thing. Fathers were supposed to do more than terrify their children, after all. And why the hell did he suddenly /want/ to be a good father? Lily  
wasn't exactly a proper excuse anymore...it wasn't just guilt that was driving him anymore, not since last night...  
  
The door to his office swung open with a loud bang, and he swirled through the doorway, fully intent on tackling the mound of un-graded papers atop his desk. Instead, he stopped and stared.  
  
"Hello, Severus." the Headmaster greeted, his feet propped up on the edge of the desk.  
  
"Headmaster?" he asked, he'd been fairly certain that the old wizard was at lunch with the rest of the staff and student body.  
  
"I thought I might find you here, you have always been fond of working when something's troubling you." the Headmaster said, and Severus frowned, walking forward to sit in the chair across the desk.  
  
"I'm also quite fond of my privacy." he replied darkly, but the older wizard only chuckled, dropping his feet back down to the floor.  
  
"I just thought you might like to know that I was the one who asked Remus to invite Harry out for a while." he said, and Severus' eyes widened.  
  
"Why?" he settled on asking.  
  
"For one, it'll probably be a while before Harry will be able to have fun with his friends again. And secondly....I asked Remus to talk to him a bit. Harry's still in shock for the most part. He has obviously accepted everything that has happened, but he does not know how to deal with it. That, I'm afraid, will take some time. I was hoping that Remus might be able to help him out a little in that area, for reasons of which I'm sure you're aware." Dumbledore said, and after a moment, Severus finally sighed and leaned back in his chair, eyes tightly shut.  
  
"Yes...I believe I understand your reasoning, but..." he began, and then stopped himself, reaching up to rub his throbbing temple with one hand.  
  
"But....you were hoping to talk to Harry." Albus finished for him, and Severus nodded reluctantly. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty of chances for that. I'd planned on registering him as your son, so no one will think strangely of you for spending time with him." Severus looked up at the last, eyes widened with surprise.  
  
"What? But...how will we explain everything? Where he's been, why no one's heard of him, his mother..."  
  
"Relax, Severus. We'll discuss all that later on along with the paperwork. Besides, it would be pretty difficult to introduce him as anything /but/ your son....the resemblance is unmistakable." Albus said, and Severus dropped his hand from his temple.  
  
"You are right, of course." he answered, though he wasn't sure that he liked the idea very much at all. People would undoubtedly watch his behavior with interest, to see just how much of a `father' their hated Potion's Master would be. It would also mean that he wouldn't have much of a choice about changing his behavior toward Harry either, as they'd /both/ have to put on somewhat of an act. And he /would/ have to come up with a really good story to tell the Dark Lord.... "It will be very...difficult, though." he muttered, and Dumbledore nodded in understanding.  
  
"Yes, it will be." he said simply, and Severus stared at him for a moment. How could he be so calm about the whole thing? After the initial shock, Albus had simply seemed to /accept/ it all, without so much as a hint of uncertainty.  
  
"Damnit Albus, how can you be so calm?" he muttered in frustration, "I don't know the least bloody bit about being a father...and somehow you can just sit there as if we were discussing nothing more than the dinner menu!" he said, eyes swirling darkly.  
  
"I'm the Headmaster, they pay me to be calm." he said, and Severus' jaw dropped in surprise. "Severus, don't worry yourself into the ground about not knowing /how/ to be a father, it isn't something taught in a book. You learn it as you go, and I should know...I've got ten kids, sixteen grandchildren, and 8 great-grandchildren!" Albus said with a proud smile.  
  
"Albus, I don't even know where to /start/. It's obvious that I shouldn't treat him in the same fashion as I used to, but I don't believe that that alone is enough." Severus replied, sinking back further in his chair again.  
  
"No, but it is a start. Don't fool yourself for a second that you're alone in this either, Severus. Harry has just as much to learn as you do, along with coming to terms with everything that's happened." Albus said reassuringly, and rose slowly from his chair.  
  
"I don't know why, but I'm starting to believe you." Severus said, and the Headmaster clapped a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Good. Now, I must be off. Meet me in my office at 4 o'clock so that we can get the paperwork and everything straightened out between the three of us." he said, and Severus nodded as the old wizard disappeared out the door.  
  
The pile of un-graded parchment still lay piled high atop his desk, but for some reason he wasn't as eager to begin the abhorred task as he had been before. The papers could wait. Rising abruptly from the chair, he headed quickly out of the office and off to the Potions classroom.  
  
He had an idea.......  
  
------------End Chapter 19---------  
  
FANART ALERT!!! ---I FINALLY POSTED THE GIFT-ART!! Okay, check my website if you want to see three pieces of fabulous fanart by Red Dragon Order, FW Viper, and Kokiri85...I should have posted them weeks ago...but oh well. They're in the art gallery, in the HP section. Enjoy! Oh, and if there's some sort of bandwidth problem, let me know and I'll post them somewhere else temporarily so you guys can see them!  
  
Notes: Yeah yeah, I know...I didn't really dive into their thoughts much. Oh well. I /did/ update on a weekend, though, and I /did/ make this chapter a lot longer than they have been in a while. Anyway, stay tuned for 20, in which the `transfer' student shall be introduced to the school, and I'll also tell you all what's gonna happen with the scar and Serpent's Mark. As always, theories and reviews are quite welcome!! 


	20. Complication

Note:  Okay, this was going to be a really long chapter, so I split it into two parts. Also, there was a bit too much of a tone switch between the two (you'll see what I mean) so I separated them for a better transition.  The other part will be up tomorrow (or today, depends when you're readin' this.)

Thanks! ::  A big ole thankyou goes out to Kryta Regina Slytherin, who sent me some really cool poetry ! I'll post it on my web site if she lets me…I gotta go email her about it now! Hehe! Thanks a bunch, and I'm glad you like the fic!!! And, as always, thanks a bunch to everybody for reviewing!!

A Father's Sin

By Severitus

Chapter 20-Complication

            Mr. White looked about as much like a muggle as he possibly could without actually being one. He was short and thin, with a head of impecabbly combed, short cut hair. A pair of tiny, round spectacles sat perched on his large, round nose, and his eyes were of the sort that made you watch what you were doing around him. The oddest thing about him though, was that he was dressed in a muggle business suit, and for no apparent reason other than because he liked it. Currently he was standing next to Dumbledore's desk, discussing some aspect of an unrolled parchment with the Headmaster. Harry couldn't help but stare at the man as he walked through the office door at 4 p.m., shocked temporarily out of his nervousness by the unusual sight. The Headmaster didn't seem to pay his surprise any mind, however, and idly lifted a hand and waved him toward of one of the two chairs in front of the desk. Professor Snape was already seated in one of them.

            "Alright then, now that everyone is here, we might as well get started, shall we?" Dumbledore said, finally leaning back from the parchment. Mr. White (he wore a name tag) stood up beside the desk, an eager smile crossing his boyish features. Something about that smile seemed vaguely familiar, but Harry couldn't even begin to place it. "May I introduce Mr. Alvin White, head of the Ministry's Magical Documentation Department." he said, and the man took a small bow, that twinkling (and strangely genuine) smile never once leaving his face. 

            "It's a pleasure," he said, his voice clear and more befitting of a narrator than a high-ranking secretary.

            "Now, Alvin has already drawn up the proper documents, all that is needed is a few pieces of information and a signature or two. Are both of you still sure that you wish to go through with this?" Dumbledore asked, and as one, Snape and Harry nodded, though each quite reluctantly.

            "Very well. First off, we need to get you a name." Alvin said, adjusting his glasses slightly and unrolling a second parchment with a flourish. It was covered with tiny print, and Harry noted with some trepidation that there were only a few blank spaces on the entire page. Harry's eyes widened as he stared at it, and for a brief moment he considered calling the whole thing off. A barrage of questions assaulted his thoughts, what would it be? Would he remember to answer to a new name? Would his last name be Snape, or something else? Would it be hideous? Would his father pick the name? Could they even /trust/ this Alvin person?

            "Any preferences?" Dumbledore asked, addressing the question to the two of them. They both remained silent, and Dumbledore gave a deep, knowing sigh. "Alright then, we'll try something practical. Let's see that parchment over there Alvin..." he said, and took the proffered, blank parchment. He spent a moment perusing a different paper, and then spent a moment scribbling something on the blank parchment. It looked like a list of names, but Harry couldn't tell for certain. When he was finished, he wrote three words below the list, and then passed the parchment to an unsuspecting Severus Snape. He took the parchment warily, brows creased in mild confusion until he glanced down at the paper. Seeming to understand what was being asked, his eyes traveled over the three words at the bottom, mouth twisting in slight disgust at one thing or another. A moment later he'd snatched a quill from the desk and hastily scratched out one of the three names, replacing it with something different. With a satisfied nod he handed it back to the Headmaster, who gave an amused smile.

            "My father didn't deserve to have anyone named after him." Snape offered in explanation, and Harry's eyes widened in understanding. Of course, by being 'practical' Dumbledore had probably made a list of Snape's relatives' names, or something similar. Then the Headmaster suddenly offered the parchment to Harry, and he swallowed nervously as he glanced toward the bottom of the page.

            "Is that acceptable?" the Headmaster asked, and Harry nodded, a slight smile crossing his face. Actually, it wasn't a bad name at all, he thought it looked kind of...cool, to be truthful. Despite that fact, he couldn't ignore the tremor of fear that traveled up his spine as he glanced at those three words, at the finality they seemed to imply. 'That's my name from now on....,' he thought, tightening his muscles to keep his hands from shaking. No more 'Harry Potter,'.....

            "Yeah, that works." Harry said, handing the parchment back to the Headmaster. Alvin then set about neatly printing the name on another official looking scroll with a very strange looking quill. The quill-tip was sending up tiny little sparks as it scratched across the paper, almost as if it were burning rather that writing the script.

            "Now, I'm sure you both understand the implications of this....I've already spoken to you about it, Severus." The Headmaster said, as Alvin continued to neatly script the name on several other sheets of paper. Severus nodded slowly, though his expression remained devoid of any emotion.

            "I...think so." Harry said, not raising his eyes to meet Dumbledore's searching gaze. It wasn't just that simple name on the paper that was being changed...it was everything. The way he acted, the way he dressed, his relationship with his friends....hell, he'd have to pretend he'd never even met Ron and Hermione, at first, anyway. It would be like his very first day at Hogwarts all over again, with the exception of everyone already knowing his name. That however, was only vaguely appealing. A student arriving after the start of the semester...that would be cause for much interest and curiosity. He didn't want that kind of attention, he just wanted to slip off into a dark corner and wait for everything to pass by. Snape remained stubbornly silent.

            "Alright then...let me see what I can do about that Mark and scar of yours...normally the Mark wouldn't be a problem, but we don't know for sure if the Ministry will be stopping by anytime soon." Dumbledore said as he rose from his desk and approached, wand already in hand. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, inclining his head back slightly. The Mark he couldn't care less about being hidden, in fact, he'd be glad to be rid of it completely, though he had a feeling that such a feat was impossible. The scar on the other hand...for years it had been his only link to his parents, well, to his mother anyway, and he didn't want to lose that. He didn't want to give up that last remaining piece of himself, the lasting reminder of his mother's sacrifice. 

            Harry's thoughts halted as he felt a light prickle of energy across his forehead, listening as Dumbledore whispered a set of familiar words. After a moment, the sensation died down, and he could sense Dumbledore leaning back slightly.

            "Hmmm..." the wizard said, then leaned forward again, and the prickling sensation returned briefly. "How odd....though I suppose I should have expected as much." Dumbledore said, and Harry opened his eyes, peering up toward Dumbledore's thought-wrinkled face.

            "What is it?" he asked, concern coloring his voice. Snape was looking at him now too, his own brow lined with curiosity.

            "I was able to disguise your Mark, but not your scar....as I said, I should have predicted it." he said, then leaned back again, pocketing his wand. "I suppose it makes sense, given the unusual nature of your scar. However, that /will/ complicate things a bit."

            "A bit?!" Snape suddenly snapped, mouth twisted in irritation, "They'll recognize that scar instantly! He's known for having it, how will any of this make a difference if all they have to do is look him straight in the face?" he continued, now leaning forward in his chair. Dumbledore leaned back for a moment, completely ignoring the Potion's Masters' outburst while scratching his chin in thought.

            "Aha! I know just the thing!" he said, then suddenly reached behind Harry before drawing back again, a strip of velvet held in one hand. Almost instantly the previously restrained hair fell forward, perfectly hiding the scar, and half of his eye as well. 

            "/That's/  your plan?" Snape asked, looking both shocked and slightly angry. It took Harry a moment to realize that he himself was gaping at the Headmaster, in just as much shock as his father was at the moment. Dumbledore only shrugged and sighed deeply, leaning back against the desk. Alvin glanced up briefly, then shook his head in knowing amusement.

            "True, it could cause some complications....but it'll have to do until we can devise something better. You'll just have to be extremely careful, Harry." he said, and Snape growled again in frustration, sitting back rather roughly in the chair. 

            "But...what if it's windy?" Harry asked, thoughts suddenly overtaken with the horrifying prospect of his disguise being blown by a mere blustery day.

            "Walk backwards." Dumbledore offered, and Snape groaned loudly before putting his head in his hands. Harry was then reminded of the reason that Dumbledore was often referred to as being, 'a few beans short of a box.'

            "Well then, Grandpa, if you all have that straightened out...we might as well start going over the finer details, shan't we?" Alvin asked suddenly, and Harry and Snape both gawked at him in unison.

            "Did you just say...'grandpa?'" Snape asked warily, and Dumbledore answered with a mighty chuckle.

            "Why of course he did! He's my great grandson. Who else would I trust with this, after all?" he laughed. No one else said a thing.

--------End chapter 20----------

Notes:: Sorry if this chap was a bit different….and short…but as I've said, I write 'em as they come. And besides, it's been a while since I put in any humor. J As I said up top, next chapter will be up today or tomorrow, depending on when you're reading this. Next chapter I get back into the fun stuff….hehe…..angst, fear, delving into the dark corners of the mind….yeah!!!


	21. The New Me, part I

Note: Okay, some of you are going to want to kill me for this one….but 'it' plays an important role in the storyline, and I've sort of had it planned since the beginning (no, not the name, the /other/ it) as it sort of plays a fairly major role in the plot. If you hate me after reading this chp, you know what I'm talking about.  And no, nobody dies.

Special thanks: to Mayleesa, who unwittingly helped me with the first name.

A Father's Sin

by Severitus

Chapter 21--The New Me, part I

_'Calm...just be calm...' _he told himself over and over, concentrating on drawing in one breath after another. Ahead of him, the side door to the Great Hall loomed menacingly, dark and flickering with shadows and torchlight. Past the door, he could hear the dull roar of dinnertime chatter, broken occasionally by a voice that rang out louder than the rest. Sucking in a second shuddering breath, he glanced over at the tall woman that stood at his side, head cocked toward the door as if listening for something in particular.

"Relax, it will be over before you know it." McGonagall said as she turned to him briefly, a small smile flickering across her face. Harry nodded slowly, again struggling to calm his hyperactive nerves. McGonagall, just like the rest of the school, was completely ignorant of the events of the past few days. As far as she knew, he really /was/ a transfer student, who also happened to be Snape's son. On the way down from Dumbledore's office, they'd stumbled across a few people roaming the halls. They'd glanced at him briefly, almost instantly turning to their friends to ask them if _they_ knew who the strange, new boy was. Thankfully, no one had approached him, though he figured that was mostly due to McGonagall's rather stern expression and brisk pace. But now...he knew that the instant he crossed through that door every eye would be on him, every whispering voice asking _who's that?_ or _what's going on? _And then there'd be no turning back, no dashing up to Dumbledore's office to hide and proclaim that he'd changed his mind, that he didn't care about school anymore, that he didn't _want_ to give up his life.

"Come on now, it's time for us to introduce you." McGonagall said, jerking him out of his thoughts.

"What's going to happen?" he asked as she placed her hand on the door. She paused and turned back to him, her eyes twinkling brightly.

"I will take you to Professor Dumbledore, and he will make an announcement before directing you to the proper table to be seated." she said, and then surprised Harry by reaching out and giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He really must look nervous, he thought.

"Alright." he said with a nod, and then straightened his shoulders, doing his best to wipe any hint of emotion from his face. The less of an impression he made, the better.

"Very well then, follow me." she said, and opened the door quietly. He followed briskly, doing his best to not think about that doorway, about the hundreds of people seated in the Hall. They stepped through the door and into the room just behind the teachers table. His father was already seated, he noticed, as he caught a glimpse of the familiar black robes out of the corner of his eye. Harry took a moment to be grateful that he himself was no longer dressed in complete black, instead having on a pair of blue jeans and a gray shirt beneath his robes. He wasn't sure if he could deal with the predictable reaction to the wardrobe in addition to everything else.

Steeling himself, he finally brought his gaze away from the back of McGonagall's robes and looked out into the hall. He nearly sighed with relief, only a few people had noticed their entrance and were staring curiously, while everyone else was either still busy eating or chatting. McGonagall slowed to a stop next to the Headmaster's chair, and leaned down to whisper something in his ear. Nodding to her before saying something in return, he beckoned Harry forward with one hand as McGonagall slid down into her own seat.

"How are you holding up?" he asked quietly, more people were watching them now, though most were teachers that they'd passed behind on the way to Dumbledore.

"I'm okay, just nervous." he answered quietly, and Dumbledore gave him a reassuring smile.

"Alright then, I'm going to announce you now." he said, and waited for Harry's nod of assent. The Headmaster rose slowly from his chair, and placed his palms splayed on the tabletop. Harry took a step back and turned toward the room, blanking his face once again. _'Stay calm...you have to do this...stay calm...' _he told himself again and again, and then his thoughts froze as Dumbledore began to speak.

"May I have your attention, please." he said in that same, un-ignorable voice that he used for every announcement and speech, even though this was anything but a normal announcement. As one, every head in the room, teacher's and student's alike, turned toward the front table. The cacophony of chattering voices quickly died down, along with every clink of silverware and rustle of robes. Harry's breath was coming quicker, and he concentrated on slowing it down, on drawing his gaze purposefully across the room, pretending as if he'd never seen the place before in his life. In a sense, it did seem like someplace alien. Not even a handful of people watched him with any sort of recognition, and he didn't dare to look toward them. He knew that Remus would be sitting with Ron and Hermione, watching him with the same air of confusion as the rest of the Hall. Remus had promised to inform them about the switch, and Harry was thankful that he hadn't had to do it himself.

"I would like to announce the arrival of a new student, transferred here from O'Reilly's Institution of Magic. I'm sure you all heard of the tragedy that befell the school over the summer, and I do hope that you all will make your new classmate right feel at home." Dumbledore began, and Harry could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes fixed on him, looking him over, he ignored them and kept his gaze fixed firmly on the wall.

"Since the sorting ceremony has already taken place, his father, who I believe you all already know, has requested a specific housing placement..." Dumbledore began, and Harry's eyes snapped back onto the older wizard, unable to suppress the slight surprise that crossed his features. He subdued it in an instant, but continued to stare. It sounded like something Professor Snape would do, all right...but surely Dumbledore wouldn't want to put him _there_, they wouldn't do that to him, would they?

"Therefore, may I present the newest member of Slytherin House..." Dumbledore began again, and Harry froze, by some miracle managing to keep his face perfectly straight and calm. _'No! I'm a Gryffindor! What about Ron and Hermione? What about Dean, Seamus, Neville...what about Quidditch!_' he thought desperately, but Dumbledore continued on, oblivious to the fact that he'd forgotten to mention that little tidbit up in the office earlier.

"...Mr. _Zachary Lucas Snape_!" he continued, and began clapping lightly. The rest of the hall followed suit, though it was immediately accompanied by a roar of confused whispers. Everyone was staring at him now, flicking there gazes back and forth between him and Professor Snape. Harry stared at them unblinkingly, desperately wanting to shrink back into the wall behind him, or to dash out the door and keep on running. It was done...he'd been introduced, the entire school was watching him. There was no turning back..."You may be seated now, _'Zachary,_'" Dumbledore said while motioning toward the Slytherin table, and gave him a brief pat on the back. Harry nodded stiffly before beginning the trek toward the distant student table. "You may continue!" Dumbledore said as he sat back down, but hardly anyone even glanced at their plates. Harry kept walking.

_'Severus has a son?_' one professor whispered as he passed.

_'He looks like him..._' a second whispered.

_'Who would have guessed?_' said yet another.

Harry ignored them all as he went, keeping his gaze focused in front of him. He didn't dare let his mind wander, didn't dare to dwell on any of the voices around him. _Slytherin_...he thought briefly, then furrowed his brows to be rid of the thought. '_It's only temporary_,' he reminded himself. As he neared the edge of the Slytherin table, every head in the hall turned with him, every single one either gaping in shock or hurriedly whispering. Some didn't even bother to whisper.

_"Bloody hell...we've got two of them now!" _he heard someone from the Gryffindor table say, immediately followed by a chorus of _'Oh no!'s_ and a couple disheartening exclamations of, _'He'll probably be another Malfoy...'_. Harry kept walking still, eyes unconsciously hunting for an empty seat.

"Over here!" a familiar voice suddenly called out, and with dawning horror he realized just who had spoken. The only visibly empty seat had somehow managed to find its way between Malfoy and Goyle, and it was the former who had called for his attention. Harry's first reaction at seeing that pointed face fixed in his direction was to abruptly turn and walk the other way, but he exercised a willpower he never knew he possessed and stayed his ground. Changing his course slightly, he headed toward the seat, struggling to maintain the appearance of calm. Malfoy was smiling slightly, while his two companions were staring at him dumbly, awaiting orders.

"You can sit with us." Malfoy said as he drew nearer, again motioning toward the seat with a flourish of his hand. Harry only nodded and approached, then slid carefully into the seat. People were still staring at him, but a greater number of people across the hall had regained interest in their dinners once again. _He put me in Slytherin_...he thought again, and struggled to force his attention away from the matter. However, he couldn't help but cast a glance toward the Head table, his gaze sliding first to Dumbledore, and then to his father. Snape was watching him, his expression strangely filled with a hint of surprise. Turning his gaze back to the Headmaster, Harry creased his own brows in confusion...who's idea _had_ it been to put him in Slytherin? Something unusual was going on...

"So, you're from O'Reilly, are you? That private school that was destroyed last month?" Malfoy suddenly asked, and Harry turned to him, reluctantly dragging his gaze away from the Headmaster.

"Yes." he answered shortly, but Malfoy persisted.

"I'm Malfoy, _Draco_ Malfoy." he said, and Harry had to restrain himself from replying, 'let me guess...shaken, not stirred?' Draco extended his hand, the normally cruel eyes watching him expectantly. Harry paused, staring at the hand and casting an appraising look over the Slytherin, remembering that very same motion from first year.

"Zachary Snape. It's a pleasure." he replied, forcing himself to take the hand and shake it. The words felt strange rolling across his tongue, foreign and wrong. '_Bloody hell, what have I gotten myself into?'_ he thought as they terminated the handshake. And sure enough, Draco broke out into a wide, satisfied grin.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle," he said, nodding toward the two lumbering idiots on either side of them. Harry spared them each a glance and a nod, and tried to turn back toward the table, but Draco evidently wanted to talk. "What year are you? Fourth or Fifth?" he asked, and Harry answered without returning the gaze, instead looking up toward the ceiling, now dark and speckled with stars.

"Fifth." he answered, and Draco nodded in satisfaction.

"That's the year I'm in. We'll help you get settled in, won't we?" he said, and Crabbe and Goyle both grinned stupidly, nodding in unison.

"Thanks." he said, dropping his gaze from the ceiling. Sparing a glance toward the Gryffindor table, he caught sight of Ron, Hermione, and Lupin (in disguise, of course). Lupin was staring at the headmaster, wearing a confused expression. Ron and Hermione met his gaze when he glanced at them, each casting him a sympathetic look. He nodded at them discreetly, then dropped his gaze to the table top and stared fixedly at his own pale, long-fingered hands. He felt like he was masquerading around in a costume, borrowing someone else's name and prancing about in their borrowed skin. And now his enemies wanted to be his friends, and his (former) fellow Gryffindors would probably be his enemies, and all because of a name and a house. 'Is this really worth it?' he wondered, 'would it have been better if he'd simply decided to hide out?' Silencing his thoughts yet again, he took a deep breath and busied himself with studying the knots on the table.

Eventually, Draco and his cronies went about the business of finishing dinner while Harry merely sat with one elbow rested on the table, dragging his gaze from one end of the room to another. Occasionally he'd catch someone's eye, but they usually looked away quickly. Not long after teachers and students alike began to drift out of the room. On her way behind him, McGonagall stopped and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Come to my office after dinner, Mr. Snape. We need to see about your schedule." she said, and then continued on out the door. When she was out of earshot, Draco made a loud 'meowing' noise, and was rewarded with a roar of laughter from many of the Slytherins. Harry raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. He didn't think it was funny at all. Rising from his seat, he ignored the watchful eyes of the remaining students and Draco's confused stare, and headed out of the hall after McGonagall. Unnoticed, Ron, Hermione, and Lupin all rose from their table as well.

Harry paused outside the door, glancing idly about at the few students still lingering in the hallway. He crossed his arms and ignored their curious, appraising looks. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, waiting. He didn't think about anything as he stood there, but rather focused on the back of his eyelids, listening to all the sounds in the hallway. Later on, when he was alone in a dark room with only his thoughts to distract him, he knew he wouldn't be able to escape everything that had happened, but until then, he chose to block it all out. The 'disguise' had to be a good one, after all. It wasn't long before he heard three sets of footsteps approaching, and he opened his eyes when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Hello," Lupin said from in front of him, watching him from a pair of bright green eyes, "I'm Harry Potter."

-------------End Part I----------

Notes: I LIED! sort of...you know how I said the angst would return this chapt? Yeah...well that was before I split it into two parts. Chapter 22 picks up exactly where this one leaves off, and I do mean exactly! Also, Kudos to people who got the joke with the name, I couldn't resist!


	22. The New Me, part II

Note:: Thanks a bunch for reviewing, everyone! Sorry it took a bit longer to get this one out….I was gone for the weekend, and my mum's computer doesn't accept files from mine for some reason, so I couldn't work on it…grrrr…..

Q's: Okay, I think I'm a bit /too/ subtle sometimes, a couple people didn't get that 'joke' I mentioned in the first part....check the end of this chapt when your done for the answer to that, heh.   Also, to Dumbledore's True Love---Draco's 'meowing' joke was just him making fun of McGonagall, since she's a cat animagus. Get it?  Meow? ; ) I know I know, don't quit my day job.....anyway, ONWARD!!

A Father's Sin

by Severitus

Chapter 22--The New Me,  part II

            "Hello," Lupin said, "I'm Harry Potter, and this is Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley." he said, and Harry shook the proffered hand. Ron and Hermione looked extremely nervous, each shifting from foot to foot

            "Nice to meet you." Harry replied, struggling hard to keep up the act. A few of the other students were watching them all strangely (Gryffindors and a Slytherin? Oh my!), but they quickly lost interest, all heading off toward their common rooms. "Could you possibly tell me where Professor McGonagall's office is?" he asked, and Lupin nodded, motioning that he follow them off down a hallway. Once they wee out of the main hallway and off toward the transfiguration classroom, Lupin spoke again.

            "So how're you holding up? Malfoy didn't hex you or anything?" Lupin asked, forcing a smile. Ron and Hermione glanced at him worriedly.

            "No, he didn't...I think he wanted to be my friend." he said, unable to keep his mouth from twisting in slight disgust. Ron's face wore precisely the same expression.

            "Why did they put you in Slytherin?" Hermione asked, and both she and Ron again cast him that sympathetic look. After all, it meant they wouldn't be able to see each other nearly as much.

            "I don't know...I found out about it when you guys did." he said, sighing heavily.

            "I'll be at your funeral," Ron said, and Hermione glared at him.

            "That's not funny, Ron."

            "I bequeath to you my Firebolt." Harry muttered, and Hermione threw up her hands in exasperation. "Did Dumbledore happen to mention to you what's going on?" Harry asked, turning his gaze to Lupin. 

            "No...but you have to admit, it would have been rather strange if you'd been put back in Gryffindor, with your father being Head of Slytherin House and all. But I can't figure out why nothing was mentioned about it before....I'll ask Albus about it later." Lupin replied as they approached the Transfiguration classroom.

            "This is just too weird..." Ron muttered, casting his gaze from Harry to Lupin, most likely seeing double in some fashion or another. Harry didn't reply,  but stepped forward and knocked on the door.

            "We'll see you tomorrow, Harry. Albus mentioned something about letting you three use the Guest Wing for '_practice,' whatever that means." Lupin muttered, and Harry turned back toward him, mouth curling in a bright smile. _

            "Honest?" he said, and Lupin nodded. Ron and Hermione were grinning too. "Alright!"

            "See you later!" Ron and Hermione said as they darted off after Lupin. At least there was one bright spot to look forward too.

            "Come in." McGonagall suddenly called out, and Harry opened the door. Inside, McGonagall was seated at her desk, the door to her office at the back of the classroom opened wide. "Ah, there you are. I appreciate your being so prompt." she said, lifting her head from an unrolled parchment she'd been perusing. He approached and stood before the desk as she motioned him forward, making sure to look about the room briefly, to give the impression that he'd never seen it before. "Did you have any trouble finding the classroom?" she asked, and he shook his head.

            "No, Professor. A...um...Harry Potter and his friends showed me the way." he said, and McGonagall looked faintly surprised.

            "Really? I'll have to remember to award them a few points for that...." she muttered to herself. She eyed him for a moment, her eyes sparkling in the dim light as she seemed to study him. Harry shifted uncomfortably, his hands politely clasped at his back. "I apologize...I'm afraid that I'm still getting used to the idea of Professor Snape having a son, he never struck me as the type." she mumbled, rustling through the papers on her desk as if searching for something. She finally pulled out two pieces of paper, one was a timetable and the other was some sort of chart.

            "O'Reilly was a year round school, wasn't it?" she asked, her voice strangely softer as she asked. Harry nodded. "Most of the students from there transferred to either Durmstrang or one of the other private schools..." she muttered, her eyes flicking over the chart. "Very well then...your records show that you've taken all the required courses up to the fifth year level so far, I've already got you down for the basics. You've got room for two more courses...have you given any thought on what you'd like to take?" she asked, and Harry nodded. Behind him, he heard the classroom door open and close, but he didn't turn around.

            "Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, if you don't mind, Professor." he said, and she repeated it to herself as she wrote it on the timetable, checking another nearby parchment for the proper times. 

                        "Very well, then. You have my class first thing on Monday, I'll have a list of books for your chosen classes by then. I believe you already have them for your general courses?" she asked, and Harry nodded. She didn't need to know that he already had _all the books he would need. "Here's your temporary schedule, and don't be shy to ask for help if you can't find your way." she said, handing him the timetable._

            "I will, Professor, and thank you," he said, neatly folding the paper and sticking it down into his pocket. McGonagall nodded and then looked at something behind him, a slight smile crossing her lips.

            "You can have him back now, Severus." she said, and Harry nearly jumped in surprise, whirling to see Professor Snape standing silently in the center of the classroom, waiting.

            "How kind." Severus muttered, and inclined his head toward the door. Harry cast the Transfiguration Professor one last glance and did as he was told, trailing after the phantom-like figure of his father as he swept out the door. He stopped once they were out in the hall, the door securely shut behind them. Harry paused, shifting nervously as Snape fixed him with a blank, black gaze.

            "It was not me." he said suddenly, and Harry blinked in surprise and confusion, "The sorting...I did not request that you be put anywhere." he clarified, as if expecting to be blamed for it.

            "I kind of guessed that, by your expression back at dinner." Harry said, and the man seemed to relax slightly. 

            "Oh." he replied shortly, then turned away to face down the hall, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. "Well, come on then. I'm supposed to 'show you the way' to the dormitories. Your things have already been taken down." he said, and Harry followed him as he took off down the hall toward the dungeons. It was odd following Snape down the dark hallways, not worrying about being in trouble for any real or fictional slight. Since finding out that Snape was his father, he really hadn't been around him much; more than usual, yes, but not enough so that the current situation was still extremely uncomfortable. They'd barely talked, even when they'd been alone for a while that morning.

            "Er...Professor?" Harry asked tentatively. Snape fell back beside him, turning his head halfway toward him as they walked.

            "Yes?" he asked, his voice slightly strained with a hint of uncertainty.

            "What am I supposed to call you now? I mean...in class 'Professor' obviously, but what about the rest of the time?" he asked, and his father's stern expression instantly turned into a surprised one.

            "I don't know." he began, his brow creasing with thought, "Just 'Professor' would probably be best for now, I don't think your classmates would think anything of it." he continued, and Harry nodded in agreement to the unspoken words. Until they actually got to know one another better, it probably _would be best. There was also the fact that Harry wasn't even the least bit comfortable with the idea of calling Professor Snape 'dad,' whether inside or outside of class; the whole 'father and son' thing was going to be hard enough without it._

            "Okay," Harry said as they entered the dungeon's main hallway. They fell silent for a moment, each lost in thought. Surprisingly, Snape didn't bother to speed up his pace once again, but rather stayed at Harry's side. Pausing his thoughts briefly, Harry turned his head slightly to the side and took a moment to truly study the man walking at his side. For the most part, he seemed just the same as always. His steps were just as silent, his stance just as menacing, and his every movement just as predatory as the day Harry had first seen him. But something was undoubtedly different, not so much as to be instantly noticeable, though it was there nonetheless. The expression on his face had, for the moment at least, lost that sharp, bitter edge that it seemed to display even in absence of anything else. It had softened somewhat, the eyes that normally swam with rage or annoyance now swirled with something else entirely, a confused, almost lost sort of look. Somehow, that small outward change came as a great relief to Harry, for it was definite proof that his father _was trying, and happened to be just as lost and confused as he was._

            "Would you care to have another talk tomorrow?" Snape asked suddenly, turning his head slightly to fix him with an expectant gaze. Harry blinked in surprise, and then nodded hesitantly, remembering the last 'talk' they'd had; this time he'd have to be more patient.

            "Sure...what time?" he asked, and Snape looked almost grateful at his answer.

            "After lunch?" he replied, and Harry nodded again, pausing to run a hand back through his hair. "We can try to find a better way to take care of that scar then also, if you wish." he added, raising a finger to point at the revealed lightening shape. Hastily, Harry ran a hand through his hair again, this time putting it deliberately in his face.

            "That sounds like a good idea, it's going to be a pain trying to hide it all the time" he answered, and sighed deeply as they approached the entrance to the Slytherin dormitories. They paused just before the flat, non-descript section of hallway wall that led into the dormitory, with Harry staring at it with more than a little apprehension. Just then, Snape seemed to straighten up and locked his hands behind his back, having come to some sort of a decision.

            "Albus had most of your things delivered already, with the exception of the few Remus requires in order to make a proper appearance. The password is 'Solus.' Should anything...occur, my rooms are three doors down on the left." he said, and Harry nodded, casting a quick glance down the hallway. He'd been in the Slytherin dorms once before under a disguise, but he still couldn't shake his growing apprehension about entering the room. He was terrified that he'd blow his disguise, and then be stuck down in the dark, surrounded by people that thoroughly hated his guts. Harry looked up in surprise when a hand suddenly settled on his shoulder, but he was even more surprised by the expression on his father's face; his mouth was curved slightly, as if it were struggling to attain a reassuring smile. In effect, it wasn't that far off. "They won't bite." he said suddenly, and Harry cracked a small smile as well. "Goodnight, 'Zachary'." he said, removing the hand from his shoulder.

            "Goodnight, Professor," Harry replied, and watched as Snape turned and drifted further down the hall toward his own rooms, robes flaring in that ever-familiar manner. Taking a deep breath, Harry turned back toward the door, quickly checking to make sure his scar was properly hidden. "Okay then, here goes....'Solus!'" he said, and the outline of the heavy stone door slid into focus, scraping sideways to reveal the dim entrance to the Slytherin common room.

            Voices instantly began to drift out of the open doorway, along with a large rectangle of dim, flickering light. Struggling to blank his mind and ignore any lasting misgivings, he stepped through the opening and stood staring into the room, dimly aware of the door sliding shut behind him. There were about a dozen Slytherins of various years scattered about the room, a few seated in the large, darkly upholstered chairs and couches, and a few standing idly about the fireplace. The green chain-lamps hung from the ceiling cast an odd, orangish glow about the room, somehow managing to banish all the shadows and yet remain dim at the same time. 

            "There he is," a voice said suddenly, and the chatter in the room died down as each face slowly turned to stare at him, each slowly appraising him like a predator would a possible meal. Furrowing his brows, he returned the gaze quietly, and stepped further into the room as several of the people began to head his way.

            "So...Professor Snape's your dad, huh?" one of the younger girls asked smartly. She had thick brown hair and bushy eyebrows, and in the end looked more like some sort of bear rather than a girl.

            "I thought that would have been obvious." he replied, surprised at how cool and calm his voice sounded. The girl looked surprised, but some of the other Slytherins smiled as if in approval. Malfoy was sitting in a chair nearby, smiling smugly around at his dorm-mates as if to say 'I told you so!'

            "So how come we've never heard of you?" a sixth year, whose name was Tyrell, Harry remembered, asked suddenly.

            "Would it have made any grand difference if you had?" he asked, now slightly annoyed for real, rather than just for show. He didn't want to spend the rest of the night answering questions. Again, several Slytherins snickered at the surprised and slightly put-down expression on their dorm-mate's face. 

                        "Well, it's not surprising that we've never heard of him. Professor Snape doesn't exactly talk that much at all. For all we know, he could a dozen kids." Millicent Bulstrode said suddenly, and Harry actually found himself thanking her mentally. In reality, he gave her a slight nod and stood up straighter, casting a quick glance around the room once again.

            "I would be most grateful if one of you could show me the way to the fifth year dormitories?" he asked, and Malfoy jumped up before anyone else could offer. 

            "Right this way." he said with a smug grin, and Harry followed him toward one of the two doorways in the back of the room. Surprisingly, Crabbe and Goyle stayed behind. Briefly Harry wondered if Malfoy had been planning this ahead of time...

            "We're right in here." Malfoy said, opening a door that was third from the far end of the long hall. He stood there proudly, reminding Harry very much of a doorman at an expensive hotel.

            "Thank you...Draco, was it?" he said, and Malfoy nodded, following him proudly as they stepped into the room. Pausing just inside the doorway, he cast a quick, appraising glance around the room. It actually wasn't half bad, it was a little dark for his tastes, but homey looking just the same. Unlike Gryffindor tower, this room was a long rectangle, with the beds arranged side by side along either wall. A long, dark green and silver rug ran down the floor between the two rows of beds, which were each decorated with lighter green and silver trimmings. Ornately carved wooden dressers sat next to each bed, with a trunk located at the end of each bed. A doorway at the end of the room led to what was presumably a bathroom. "Not bad." Harry muttered, nodding in approval as he strolled down between the beds. Malfoy hurried to walk beside him, struggling to attain a knowledgeable air to his expression.

            "That's where I sleep," he said, pointing to second bed nearest the far wall. "Those belong to Crabbe and Goyle," he added, pointing to two beds directly across the way. Lastly, he pointed to the bed on the very end. "And that...is yours." he said, and Harry instantly veered it it's direction. His trunk sat at the end of the bed, with the Slytherin uniform folded neatly atop it. He picked them up and set them on the end of the bed, then knelt down to open his trunk. Not surprisingly, the brass latch that had formerly been etched with the letters 'H. P.,' now read, 'Z. S.' Dumbledore really had been thorough....

            "So...are the classes alright here?" he asked suddenly, sensing Draco hovering over him. Startled, Draco jerked back and sat down uninvited on the edge of the bed. Harry didn't look up as he answered, but rather began shifting idly through the contents of his trunk.

            "Yeah....most are alright. Care of Magical Creatures and Transfiguration are horrible, though. The Creatures class is taught by a half-giant, if you can imagine that! Plus, he's always favoring Potter and his lackeys. Transfiguration isn't as bad, but McGonagall's as rigid as they come, and she's Head of Gryffindor. Your dad's class is by far the best." Malfoy said, and Harry snorted at the last, earning a curious glance. Harry paused in searching his trunk, finally looking up toward the blonde.

            "I can't imagine that too many people would agree with you." he answered, and Malfoy nodded. Returning to the perusal of his trunk, he finally came across the pair of items that he'd hoped Remus hadn't kept for the disguise. A few pairs of clothes were missing, predictably everything with the Gryffindor coat of arms or the house colors, but beyond that everything seemed in place. Most importantly, the invisibility cloak, Marauders Map, and his Mother's crystal lily were safely stowed away.

            "True, but he always favors the Slytherins. Only the other houses get it rough." Malfoy said, now swinging his legs back and forth. "Of course, Potter always gets it the worst of all." he said, smiling wickedly. Unnoticed, Harry gave a slightly wicked smile of his own.

            "So...you lot really seem to have it in for Potter." he said, looking up with what he hoped was a curious expression. Malfoy took the bait like a charm.

            "He'll get his someday if I can help it." Malfoy muttered, crossing his arms in determination. "Everyone seems to think he's something special, but I know better. 'Saint Potter' is no better than that Mudblood friend of his...he'll share her fate someday, too. Maybe sooner than anyone suspects." he said, once again smiling in a not so pleasant way.

            "What do you mean?" he asked innocently, and Malfoy cast a quick glance toward the doorway before leaning closer and raising a hand to shield his voice.

            "My dad has me watch for strangers coming to visit Dumbledore...he likes to keep track of what the old man is doing, right? So the other day I happen to see this old woman walking with him, and I catch her name as she's leaving. Of course, I wrote to my father about it immediately. He anonymously tipped off the Ministry about it...just to see if she knew something about Dumbledore's plans. I don't know the details, but it ends up she knew some big secret about Potter instead, something big enough to get Fudge worried. Some Aurors came the other day and have been keeping an eye on him, and father said they're going to throw Potter in prison any day now. Isn't that a _riot?!" he said, laughing heartily. Harry cracked what he hoped was an amused smile, but he had to turn away after a moment to hide the anger rising in his eyes._

            "I guess your father will be pretty proud of you then." he said, and Malfoy nodded.

            "Yeah, I just wish he'd tell me what this 'big secret' is, I'd like to taunt Potter about it a little before they cart him off." he said. _'I'm sure you would,' Harry thought, and stood up from kneeling. Thankfully, the other Slytherins began drifting into the room then, some stifling huge yawns as they came. Harry was thankful his bed was next to the wall, he didn't like the idea of being pinned between two of them all night long. "I guess I'll let you get ready for bed then, __Zack," he said, hopping off the bed while watching the other Slytherins for a reaction. Some cast him faintly jealous looks, while others just rolled their eyes. Of course, leave it to Malfoy to want to claim first-name-basis with their Head-Of-House's son, it was simply a matter of pride. Harry settled for rolling his eyes as well and dug back into the trunk for some nightclothes, and ended up with some he didn't recognize, but liked nonetheless. He laid them on the end of the bed and dug back into the trunk for the rest of his clothing, finally coming up with a pile that he carted over toward the small dresser nearest the wall. While the other Slytherins all rushed to and fro from the bathroom, and then piling one by one into bed, Harry busied himself with putting away the clothes, determined to be the last one to bed. He didn't want to chance having to talk to one of them again, he didn't know for how long he'd be able to keep from whipping out his wand and cursing Malfoy with every spell he knew. After all, it was his fault that he was even stuck down here in the first place. If Malfoy hadn't been spying on Dumbledore, then he wouldn't have had to completely give up his life, face, friends, and all._

            Dimly aware that his teeth were clenched, he loosened his jaw and looked away from the chest of drawers after dropping in the last shirt. A few chattering voices still floated from the far end of the room, but most of the torches had been put out and the doorway to the bathroom was silent. Grabbing his nightclothes, he took off through the open doorway and quickly prepared for bed, dressing in the gray tee-shirt and black sweatpants, and then going through the usual ritual of brushing his teeth etc. He avoided the mirror completely.

            When he returned to the room, all but two of the torches on opposite sides of the room had been extinguished, and these too were burning very lowly. Stifling a yawn, he crawled into bed and pulled his knees up to his chest, facing the dresser and the wall. Clenching his eyes shut, he curled up further, not caring what anyone happened to think should they happen to look over. The heavy, forest-colored blankets were a welcome warmth against the chill air of the dungeons, but they weren't a comfort for much else. They couldn't ward off the soft snores of people that most certainly weren't his friends, they couldn't transform the dark, square room into the circular warmth of Gryffindor tower, they couldn't change the reflection the mirror cast...and they certainly couldn't still the dark roil of thoughts through his brain. Right then, he was pretty sure that he hated Malfoy more than even the Dark Lord himself. While it was true that Voldemort had successfully ruined his life by killing his mother and James Potter, he hadn't been old enough to realize what, precisely, had been taken away. But now...because Malfoy was so desperate to make his father proud, his entire life had to be ripped away and forced into some other shape. He might not ever get to be _'Harry Potter' again, he might not even get to hang out with his friends anymore. And the name...would he ever get used to be called __'Zachary Snape,' or would it always feel so wrong? _

            Curling up tighter on the bed, he angrily reached up to wipe the salty tears from his cheek. Everything was different now, wasn't it? He thought, refusing to voice the terrified sob lodged deep in his throat. It almost felt as if he was back at the Dursley's again, terrified to cry or show any sort of weakness, forced to masquerade as something he wasn't. Clenching his teeth, he struggled to still his thoughts, but they persisted undaunted, one after another surfacing in the darkness of his mind. Everything was gone now....everything he'd loved and cherished, the things that had at last brought a little light into the world he'd known before Hogwarts. Like an avalanche his life had slowly fallen away...first, James Potter...ripped away and replaced by someone just as cold and distant as a memory, and then his tenuous belief that he was something good, for he _had somehow managed to thwart the dark lord; but he wasn't even that...his life was marked by the Dark Lord himself, enslaved by his power. And now....everything else had been warped as well. His name, his past, friends and family, his very appearance,...even his possessions had been unable to escape the all-encompassing transformation. And still he knew that there would be more yet...Sirius still didn't know after all, and that opened up and entirely new line of thought. Would his Godfather, the first family he'd ever met that had actually wanted to take him in, now hate him? After all, Sirius absolutely __loathed Snape, would that hatred now extend to his son as well? Harry shivered slightly at the thought, he didn't know if he'd be able to handle it. In truth, he didn't know if he could handle everything that had __already happened. All he wanted to do was curl up in the dark and never come out again, never have to face the curious faces or watch his old House-mates while knowing he could never again talk with them like he used to. There was something comforting about hiding in the dark, becoming an invisible shadow that no one, not even you yourself could see. If he stayed in the dark the Ministry would never find him, he'd never have to watch Sirius' face twist with disgust and hatred, he'd never have to see the people in the hallway skirt around him in confusion and fear; and he'd never have to face Voldemort again...._

            The nearby torch flickered briefly, and he snapped open his eyes in surprise. Something on the top of the dresser sparkled briefly in the brighter light, before becoming lost in the shadows yet again. _What's that? he wondered, jerked out of his thought by curiosity; he hadn't really paid much attention to the top of the dresser before. Sitting up against the pillows, he reached over and took the object and attached note down for inspection. The object turned out to be a small, blue corked bottle, with a scripted label that read 'Dreamless Sleep.' He set the bottle aside on the bed and unrolled the tiny note, eyes squinting against the dim light. Only one sentence was written on the parchment, and Harry read it with mild surprise and recognition. It said;_

            _For your nightmares._

            Snatching up the bottle once again, he ran a thumb across the label and smiled to himself. Snape...no, his _father, he had to remember to think of him as that, had remembered about his nightmares. It had been the first thing they'd talked about after discovering the truth, and it warmed his heart to know that his father had actually remembered, and cared enough to try and help. Carefully, he uncorked the bottle and took a tiny sip, sighing as the warm liquid trailed down his throat. He quickly re-corked the bottle and set it back on the dresser, and then took the note and slid it carefully under his pillow before lying down again. With one hand stuffed under the edge of the pillow, he could just feel the edge of the note with his fingertips. Smiling as he felt it, he allowed his eyes to slip shut and his breathing to slow. The bottle and note were now something precious, despite the fact that only a single line graced the parchment. It was physical proof that things might get better, that despite harsh words or cold comments, his father really did care about him in some way. It was more precious than any expression or action simply because it was something he could keep; something he could hold in his hand and look at whenever he wished. Snuggling further into the pillow, he felt his thoughts slowly drifting away, enveloped by a warm, dreamless haze._

Sometimes it was the small things that mattered most....

----------End 22-----------

Joke Notes:: Okay, the joke with the name 'Zachary Lucas Snape' comes in the 'Lucas' part. It was my own little tribute to George Lucas, creator of Star Wars and thus that ingenius film known as 'Return of the Jedi,' in which good ole Luke Skywalker finds out that the dark, evil, and thoroughly menacing Darth Vader is his father, whom he thought was dead. But then again…I probably explained too much now, hehe….Also, if you were wondering about that 'Shaken, not stirred,' comment last chapter, that was a reference to the way James Bond takes his vodka martini, and who always introduces himself as 'Bond, James Bond,' just as Draco say 'Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.' Maybe I'll start making note of my references at the bottom of the chapters…there were quite a few people that didn't catch the Star Wars one. Ah well….see you all next chapter!


	23. Scars

Notes: Okay..sorry this took so long, had to deal with the full moon last night an all...hehe...

Slytherin Notes: Okay, a couple people seemed concerned that I was gonna have the Slytherins all be evil...therefore, fear not! I, being Slytherin myself, ::proud grin::: wouldn't dream of such a thing!! I'll give nothing away, but rest assured, stereotypes will be practically nonexistant by the end of this thing. Me like subplots! And don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Sirius, the animagus training, or the prophecy. 

Name Notes:: Okay...a couple folks have asked me to start referring to Harry as Zachary, but I'm really not sure if I want to...maybe later I will, but for now I think I'll keep Harry as Harry, since most of it is from his perspective anyway. ::shrug:: I dunno.

Thanks: To Winky's Conscience, for the scar idea. I didn't really have a very good idea for the scar...Thank a Bunch!!!

A Father's Sin

by Severitus

Chapter 23---Scars

            "Uh-huh," Harry said, focused far more intently on the composition of his lunch than on whatever Draco had been rattling on about. His mashed potatoes were taking on a decidedly castle-like shape....

            "I mean, it's just not fair! If Dad had let me go to Durmstrang, I wouldn't _have to wait to learn the Dark Arts, they all start learning it first year! But then, you probably already knew that....hey, did they teach the Dark Arts at O'Reilly?" Draco said, and Harry took another jab at his potatoes, destroying one of the smaller turrets._

            "No." he answered shortly, but just as he hadn't all morning, Draco wasn't the least bit perturbed. Harry wondered if he was used to one-word answers, after all, Crabbe and Goyle weren't exactly the type capable of intelligent conversation.

            "Ah well...I didn't think so. My dad refuses to teach me because it'd be too suspicious, especially with Dumbledore as the Headmaster. I keep trying to tell him that I wouldn't actually cast any spells, but he won't listen. Has your dad taught you any?" Draco asked, and Harry just made a noise low in his throat. Draco seemed satisfied.

            "That's too bad....but hopefully we'll get to as soon as my dad finds something to get Dumbledore removed from office. Then we can get a _real Headmaster, one that'll let us learn the Dark Arts just like at Durmstrang." Draco continued, his eyes alight with excitement. Harry only sighed once again, only sparing him a bored glance. From the very moment he'd woken up that morning, Draco had been following him around like a puppy. He'd insisted on giving him a tour of the castle from top to bottom after breakfast, and then on showing off the brand new professional-quality broom servicing kit his father had sent him. The only relief Harry had was in the thought that at least Draco hadn't taken to carting around a camera, like Colin Creevey had. In all other aspects, Malfoy was the equal of the young Gryffindor._

            "I'll see you at dinner, Draco." he said, and abruptly rose from the table. He was out the door before Malfoy even had a chance to reply. Out in the hall, a few lingering people jumped in surprise at his sudden exit, but he ignored them and continued on down the hall. For the most part, the student population was currently either eating lunch, or enjoying themselves outside. Thanks to the recent thunderstorm, the weather outside was wonderful, and the grass greener than ever. It would have been a perfect day to practice Quidditch...but Harry couldn't even bring himself to even look toward the Quidditch pitch whenever he passed by a window. For the time being, Quidditch was out of the question. 

            "Oh look, here comes the junior git!" Fred and George muttered as he passed them in the hall, he ignored them and continued on toward the dungeons. It hadn't even been a day yet and already people hated him, immediately assuming that he'd be just as cruel as his father. He couldn't stand being thought of that way, or of hearing his former friends cutting him down so effortlessly...it hurt, but he forced himself to stay straight faced. Perhaps if he didn't give them any reason to dislike him in return, maybe they'd lay off after a while...

            Thankfully, the dungeons were empty when he reached the bottom of the stairs. The main hallway was it's usual dim, damp shade of gray, flickering in the light of the sparsely placed torches. He continued on past the Slytherin dormitories, counting one, two, three doors passed as he continued walking. The third door was closed when he stopped before it, but he could hear someone moving about inside. He didn't open it immediately, but rather paused to listen and calm himself as best as he could. Even despite everything that had happened since, he was still nervous about having this second 'talk' with his father. Now, it wasn't so much from fear, but from a mix of confusion and uncertainty. Snape he knew well enough not to like, but as his father the man was a virtual stranger. A sudden crash and ensuing cursing suddenly jolted him from his thoughts. He knocked quietly on the door, and waited patiently while listening to someone bustling about within.

            "Come in," he heard his father grumble, and after taking a moment to swallow the familiar lump in his throat, he pushed open the door. Inside, Snape was busied using his wand to clean up a mess of broken glass and liquid from the floor. His desk had been cleared of all it's paperwork, and was instead topped with a caldron and a dozen or so jars of ingredients, most of which Harry didn't recognize. When he stepped through the door, Snape looked up from the mess, his grimace fading into a small smile. "I thought it might be you," he said, waving his wand to the clear away the last of the glass. Harry took a seat in one of the chairs while his father finished up, glancing curiously at the potions ingredients on the desk.

            "Thank you for the potion," Harry said as Snape circled around to sit in the chair next to his, crossing one leg over the other. (his usual chair was stacked with the former contents of the desk top)

            "You're welcome..." he said, clearing his throat slightly. It almost seemed if as he didn't know how to react to thanks, Harry realized, for he'd reacted the same way on other occasions as well.  "So...everything going all right? No problems so far?" he asked, and Harry paused before answering, taking a moment to reflect on his tone and the unfamiliar emotion swirling in his eyes. Again Harry was confronted with an obvious change in the man, one that he decided he liked very much indeed. The last time his father had asked him a similar question, it hadn't been genuine, it had simply been conversation. This time, however, he'd detected real concern in his voice, and his eyes reflected the very same. Harry smiled brightly and nodded to the question, taking his father slightly by surprise.

            "Yes, actually...unless you'd consider Malfoy following me everywhere a problem." he said, still smiling. Surprisingly, Snape smiled slightly as well. He never seemed able to do much more than a small curving of the lips, but then again Harry imagined that he probably hadn't had much to smile about in a very long time.

            "I wouldn't worry about him too much, Harry...he's not nearly as wicked as he puts on. " Snape said, eyes glinting with amusement. Harry got the idea then that his father knew something about Draco that he wasn't letting on, but he wasn't about to ask; he wasn't sure he _wanted to know anything more about Draco than he already did. _

            "So how about you? Were there a lot of questions?" Harry asked, genuinely curious about how Snape was handling the situation.

            "Oh, yes, the staff assaulted me with questions for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, not all of them quite believe our story...." he said, and Severus smiled in amusement as Harry's eyes widened in slight fear and surprise. Now that the glamourie spell was off, it was much easier to talk to the boy. This way, it almost like talking to someone he'd just met, rather than a student he'd spent the past four years ridiculing, a student that looked precisely like an old enemy, as well. Now, it was easier to think of him as his son, and as a result, easier to change the way he acted around him.

            "They don't...suspect anything, do they?" Harry asked, and quite nearly wet his pants when Snape suddenly began laughing, smiling much wider than normal. His father almost looked like a completely different person when he was laughing, the darkness that seemed to continually linger in his expression momentarily evaporated. It also did a great deal to ease the tension between them, and Harry found himself to be considerably less nervous than before.

            "Oh no, they're simply convinced that I popped you out of a cauldron somewhere, rather than going about it in the traditional manner." he said, a half smile still lingering on his face. Harry snorted with laughter at first, but then his gaze darkened as a familiar memory rose from the back of his mind....

            {Raw, crimson flesh shining in the dim moonlight, slitted eyes gleaming madly as the demonic, child-like body was lowered down into the cauldron....arms like bleeding bones, clutching...scratching....primal screams rising up like rancid smoke....}

            "Harry?" Snape asked suddenly, his voice once again thick with strange concern. Harry blinked fiercely, struggling to force the memory back into the recesses of his mind.

            "I'm sorry...I was just remembering something." he admitted, looking away in embarrassment. Snape was still watching him intently, eyebrows twisted down in thought.

            "Would you mind if I asked what? You looked....frightened, suddenly." he asked. Harry looked up once again, eyes narrowing slightly in consideration. The flashbacks weren't something he liked to discuss normally, but something in the way Snape was staring at him kept him from saying 'no.' Everything Snape, no...his _father, (he was still having trouble thinking of him that way) had said so far had been slightly strained and carefully constructed, as if he had to think hard about everything before he said it. If __he was making an effort, then Harry very well would too, even if it meant talking about something painful._

            "Do you remember last year, when Cedric Diggory and I were taken away by that portkey?" he asked, and his father nodded slowly, brow creased with slight confusion.

            "Yes, and you dueled with Voldemort..." he said when Harry didn't immediately continue.

            "Yeah...well, before he got his body back, he was....something terrible. All red and raw...like a miniature skeleton covered in bits of flesh." Harry began again, pausing a moment to shudder in disgust. Even the Potions Master'  lips curled at the thought. "Anyway, I was just remembering when Wormtail was lowering him down into a cauldron to get his body back...." he finished, his eyes squeezed shut. 

            "You think about that incident a lot, don't you." Snape's low voice purred suddenly, though it was more of a statement than a question. Harry nodded, opening his eyes to glance down at the floor.

            "I...don't really have a choice." Harry answered, and Severus nodded slowly, his eyes glazed in thought. He understood completely. Enemies could be escaped from, but you could never truly run from your own mind....

            "So...." Severus said after a moment, straightening in his chair and clearing his throat slightly. Harry shifted uneasily as well, throwing off the darker mood the memory had brought.

            "Er..." Harry began, and then remembered something that had been mentioned the night before, "about my scar..." he added, and his father blinked in surprise.

            "Oh yes, we were going to do something about that, weren't we." he said, and then sighed deeply in thought. Spells obviously wouldn't work, and covering it up by muggle means was still risky...."I suppose we could change it's shape a bit...add more to it or something of the sort..." he continued, tapping his jaw in thought. Harry cocked his head to the side, his own expression twisted as he mulled over the idea.

            "That can be done? I thought spells wouldn't work..." Harry said after a minute, his expression still confused.

            "Oh, no, the lightning-bolt would still remain. What can be done is that we could add more around the scar, a few lines here and there..."

            "Would it be permanent?" Harry asked, hoping that the answer wouldn't be 'yes.' 

            "No, normal scars can usually be healed quite easily." Snape replied, and Harry sighed with relief. Once the whole 'Ministry' mess was dealt with, then things could be put right back to normal...well, mostly normal anyway.

            "Alright then....what do I have to do?" he asked, and though his father was slightly surprised by his sudden assent, he nodded nonetheless.

            "Just stay still, it'll only take a moment. It will hurt a little, though." Severus replied, reaching over to fetch his wand from the edge of the desk. Harry straightened in his chair as he approached, calming himself with a few deep breaths. 

            "Okay...I'm ready." he said, and Severus nodded, now standing directly in front of his son. Reaching out his free hand, he pushed the hair away from the scar and kept his hand on the forehead above, restraining the hair and tilting Harry's head back slightly. Then he lifted his wand and began his work, drawing the tip of his wand to form several random cuts, that almost instantly healed into smooth scars. During the entire process Harry didn't flinch once, though he kept his eyes tightly shut. Secretly, Severus was thankful for that. He wasn't entirely sure how he would have reacted had he seen those green eyes (Lily's eyes...) filled with pain, most likely he would have had to look away himself.

            "There." Severus said as he stood back, inspecting his work with a satisfied nod. Now, the lightning bolt shape could only be seen if one was really hunting for it among the other crisscrossing lines. It actually looked more like a 'Y' now instead of a lightning bolt, though that too wasn't distinct.

            "Thank you." Harry said, raising a hand to inspect the work.

            "Now you can just claim that you had an accident in the potions lab or something of the sort...it rather does look like something exploding glass would do." he answered, and Harry noticed that this time he completely ignored the thanks.

            "I think I will....Malfoy will probably be bugging me about it whenever he sees it." he replied. Malfoy had already asked about the one on his arm, he'd seen in that morning before Harry had put his robes on over his t-shirt. He'd told him that it had been from some broken glass, which, strangely, fit fairly well with the story his father had come up with for his other scar....Harry shuddered slightly, it was fairly unnerving to think that he and Snape thought alike in any fashion. While it was true that he was beginning to think that he wasn't so bad after all, he still was uncomfortable with the idea of there being any 'connection' of any sort between them. After all, the Potions Master had a fairly dubious history (what he knew of it, anyway)  and reputation, and if the apple happened to fall not far from the tree, then there were many possibilities that Harry didn't even want to think about...like Death Eaters and murder and a dozen or so other horrors he dare not think on. That was the darker side of his father...the part that Harry still hated and was finally being allowed to see beyond, if only somewhat. He didn't want to think about that part of the man, he knew that if he dared linger on it too long, he'd never be able to get along with his father. 

            "I'd better get going....I'm supposed to meet up with Ron and Hermione." Harry said, rising from the chair.

            "I suppose I'll see you at dinner then?" Snape replied, his expression once again reduced to a blank.

            "Yeah..." Harry said, his hand resting on the doorknob. "I'm glad we talked some, I...liked that." he continued, and the blank expression replaced by mild surprise, and a large portion of relief.

            "So did I." he replied, that small smile briefly gracing his face. Harry smiled and nodded, and slipped quietly out the door. He kept smiling as he headed down the hall, not bothering to smooth his hair back over his scar. It had been sort of...nice to talk to his father like that, without one of them yelling and storming off. He hoped that they could do it again sometime, it would probably do a great deal to help the both of them. As soon as they could be in the same room together without a nervous sweat, the better. Harry slowed down suddenly as he rounded a corner, his smile transforming into an amused one as he came to a sudden realization. He really did want to get to know his father better...he wanted to know about him, who he really was when he wasn't yelling at students or nervously trying to be a father. Harry had never had anyone of his own blood ever look even the slightest bit concerned about him before, and now, after seeing his father's genuine concern, he felt better about himself than he had in a long time. It was true that Sirius and his friends had been concerned about him on occasion, but it wasn't the same thing. Something about your own blood not caring a whit about you struck a painful chord someplace deep...but now that chord was silent. Snape had been concerned, his _father had been concerned..._

...he cared about him, and that was something worth living for.

-----------End 23----------

Notes: heh....sorry the conversation was kinda short, I was fairly braindead. I was gonna put them in this chapter, but I figured I'd made you all wait long enough between chapters. Also...ANIMAGI NEXT CHAPTER I PROMISE!! And...there'll be a bit of Sirius too....hehehe....Oh, and I apologize if Draco seemed OOC, but trust me...there's a reason, MWAHAHAHA!!!


	24. Claws, Fangs, and Fur Oh My!

NOTES:: Sorry this took so long, things have been reeeaaal crazy, I had a visitor! But guess what? It is now..SPRING BREAK!! And I bet you can guess what that means..MWAHAHAHA!!!   ::sings:: I can write I can write!

Sorry this is so short…aheh…..

Chapter 24---Claws, Fangs, and Fur...Oh My!

            Harry exited the stairway into the Guest Wing to discover Ron and Hermione already there, bickering about something or other. The door to Lupin's room was shut, and Harry assumed that he was probably working on something or another. As he approached silently, trying to get a gist of the argument, Ron abruptly turned toward him and jumped in surprise.

            "Harry! Don't do that!" Ron muttered, throwing him an accusing glance as he held a hand to his racing heart. Harry shrugged and scratched the back of his neck nervously.

            "Sorry...bad habit, I guess. Have you two been here long?" he asked, and Hermione shook her head, a familiar book clutched tightly to her chest.

            "No, just a few minutes. We followed Lupin up after lunch. Where did you take off to? We all noticed Malfoy looking rather flustered...."

            "Er...yes, I kind of ditched him. Professor Snape asked me to meet him in his office after lunch, and we talked for a while. He fixed my scar too."

            "We noticed," Ron said, squinting slightly at the new marking.

            "So...how are you two getting along?" Hermione asked, and Harry and Ron began to follow her toward one of the empty rooms further down the hall. Harry paused a minute before answering, staring at the floor in thought. 

            "Pretty good, actually. It's strange, but...he really is changing. He hasn't yelled or even gotten angry, and it seems as if he actually cares about me...."

            "Well, he is your father, Harry...." Hermione said with a small smile. Ron was rather blank-faced, but looked as if he were trying to form a smile as well.

            "Yeah, but it's still so strange and confusing...everything's been happening so quickly. I'm glad that he's trying to be a father...I don't think I could handle the old Snape on top of everything else." Harry said as they entered the room. It was almost identical to the one Remus was staying in, although there was no chess set sitting on the table between the chairs.

            "Snape and father...those are two words I never imagined I'd hear in the same sentence." Ron muttered as he plopped down in a chair. Hermione set the book down on the table while Harry grabbed a third chair from across the room, dragging it over to sit near the other two.

            "Add the words 'is my' between those two, and I'll agree with you," Harry replied, and then he and Hermione claimed the last two chairs. They sat in uneasy silence for a moment, gazes focused on the floor for the most part.

            "So what's Slytherin like?" Hermione asked at last, attempting a bright smile while Ron grimaced slightly. Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair, shrugging his shoulders at the question.

            "It's not that bad I guess...it's quieter than Gryffindor, for one thing," he said, and then after a moment's thought added, "Most of them have pretty much left me alone since yesterday, but Malfoy seems intent on being my friend. Something gives me the feeling that his father ordered him to. Aside from that...it's just kinda lonely," he paused again before continuing, the bright shade of his eyes fading slightly, "I really don't know anyone in there...and now I've got to pretend that I don't know anyone at all in the school. I miss Gryffindor Tower already...."

            "Maybe Dumbledore will let you transfer," Ron offered, eyes widened hopefully. Harry snorted, rolling his eyes at the idea.

            "Oh yes...a Snape in Gryffindor, then I'd really be the center of attention," he drawled sarcastically.

            "Harry...." Hermione said, her tone drawing his attention to the slightly hurt look on Ron's face. Harry sighed and hung his head, inwardly chiding himself. _They're only trying to help, he reminded himself._

            "I'm sorry...I'm just sort of...really confused right now," he said, raising his gaze to look at each of his friends. 

            "Don't worry about it Harry," Ron said, now wearing a forced cheery smile. 

            "Um...how about we start practice?" Hermione offered, drawing the book away from her chest and setting it on the table. She took a moment to turn it to the proper page, but when she looked back up, the uneasiness that seemed to have settled between them had dissipated.

            "Sounds good to me," Ron said, his eyes shining with anticipation. Harry nodded after a moment, at the same time reaching up to shove a lock of hair out of his face. Hermione sighed softly, casting Harry an unnoticed sympathetic glance. While his mood had lightened a bit from what it had been a moment before, it was still fairly dark. She couldn't help but be extremely concerned for him, no matter how much Remus or Ron had assured her that he'd be alright. It simply wasn't possible for him to be 'all right,' far too much had happened to him in a fairly short span of time. He'd had his life ripped away from him and then suddenly reordered, did they honestly expect that he'd be able to take it with a blink and a smile? No...he wasn't well, Hermione could tell that easily enough. Ever since he'd found out that first terrible truth about himself, he hadn't been the same. Harry had always been darker than most Gryffindors, more mature and reserved than most everyone else his age. At first, she'd associated it with his rough home-life and unwanted status. But now....now she knew where he'd gotten some of that darkness, and recent events had amplified it several times over. It was as if he was followed by a constant shadow, wearing an invisible weight on his shoulders that was slowly tearing him out of the light and into the darkness. No matter how different he looked now, she could still recognize that same pain swirling in his eyes, and it was brighter than ever before.

            "All right, let's get to it then," Hermione said at last, plastering on her own bright smile for Harry's sake. He gave a slow smile in return, before leaning his head back and closing his eyes, with both Ron and Hermione doing the same a moment later.

            _'Alright then...concentrate,' Harry told himself, squinting his eyes in an effort to focus his mind. Immediately he knew it was going to be more difficult than before, errant thoughts kept rising up and demanding attention. His mind kept wanting to return to other things, like classes tomorrow, (Potions, primarily), another night in the Slytherin dorms, and a myriad of other things having to do with the past few days. But finally, after several minutes of battle, he finally succeeded in quieting his thoughts long enough to begin. __'Verto Fera,' he thought, forcing each syllable into perfect clarity. He took in several deep breaths as he focused on writing the words inside his mind, the script curling and shining white against the backdrop of his eyelids. Then he tried to remember the feeling of his hands twisting into paws, his spine lengthening into a tail, the tingle or fur rising up along his skin, and then it began. Strangely, the change seemed to happen more quickly than before. He grimaced as small tendrils of pain wound up through his nerves, his hands emitting small pops and cracks as the bones shifted and reformed. Then it seemed to slow down again, the tingling of sprouting fur sluggishly continuing up past his elbows and up his arms. Over and over he kept thinking of those two words, eyes squeezed shut and muscles tensed. He barely noticed when the transformation continued far beyond what it had ever before, as if some wall had been breached and the road beyond was all downhill. It was a struggle to maintain his concentration, but somehow he managed to think around the increasing pain. At first it was just the fur spreading farther, but then everything else seemed to follow it, rippling throughout his muscle and bone. He almost cried out when his legs began to change shape, some bones lengthening while others shortened. And then he was no longer sitting in the chair, but knelt on the ground, head bowed as the muscles in his legs rippled and corded, stretched and grew, some becoming leaner while others thickened. Still it continued, fur erupting from his skin, black as night as it slowly covered his back, across his shoulders, coating his clenched stomach and then down across his legs. _

            In the back of his mind, Harry began to grow a little panicked over the extent of the transformation. He wasn't sure if it was supposed to continue so quickly, but the thought was banished before it could completely form. Concentration was imperative, he would not let it go now...he'd see it to the end. Sharp pain flared again as his spine bowed, forcing him to press his front paws to the ground. The pain continued up his neck, he could feel the vertebra lengthening, the muscle thickening around his throat and shoulders, up across his jaws. Finally he let out a muffled cry as pain shot through the bones of his jaw, veining up over his face and back across his skull. Dimly he was aware of the many successive wet pops and cracks as his teeth sharpened and changed shape, stretching and rearranging to press against the inside of his lips. And then everything began to move, bone, muscle, and ligament pressing forward and out. Cheekbones stretched and reformed, his nose flattened and pushed outward with his jaws, darkening in color as short fur spread across his face. For a brief second he couldn't hear anything as his ears changed shape, forming into sensitive triangular cups set high on his head. And then his spine bowed again, his shoulder blades and hip bones suddenly reforming at a different angle. Then, at last, the unusual sensations coursing through his body slowed down, until finally settling into a still, painless calm.

            At first, Harry was terrified of what he would find when he opened his eyes. But then he reminded himself that this form, whatever it was, could probably save his life someday. That, and the sudden realization that he'd somehow managed to completely transform, forced him to open his eyes. The first thing he saw startled him quite a bit, even though it was simply a view of the fireplace. Most colors seemed muted, flushed with more gray than before, though strangely the violet in the wall-hangings seemed clear enough. Shaking his head awkwardly, he blinked and dared to look down, focusing on the pair of large, black paws splayed on the carpet below him. Turning his head, he sighted what he thought was a canine body, coated completely in the thick black fur, though it was shot through in places with veins of white, where his scars normally were. The long, bushy tail was wrapped around his hindquarters, and he flicked it briefly, reveling in the odd feeling of the extra limb. Casting a quick glance at Ron and Hermione, who were still deep in concentration, Harry drudged up enough courage to get up and try and find out what the rest of him looked like. After all, he still didn't know exactly what he was. The process of walking, however, turned out to be a bit trickier than he'd predicted. Standing was easy enough, but it took a moment for him to get the four legs moving without tripping over himself. After a bit of a struggle, he made it over to the tall mirror located across the room, and sat back to stare into it in awe. 

            His eyes were still green, he noticed happily, though now they seemed to reflect the dim light filtering into the room. And centered directly above one eye was an odd patch of grayish fur, oddly resembling his scar. If he could have, he would have smiled proudly at the form he now inhabited. It was lean and sleek, with pearly white claws and sharp fangs. It was also vaguely like Sirius' animagus form, a thought which brought a bit of hopeful pride as well as fear. Lupin on the other hand, would probably be highly amused if he ever found out about it. After all, Lupin was no longer the only 'wolf' at Hogwarts.

            "Harry?" a questioning voice called, and Harry turned his head to see Hermione just breaking out of her concentration, stretching her fur covered arms. Focusing all his attention on walking properly, he trotted back across the room with what he hoped was equivalent of a smile, and sat down right next to Hermione's chair before emitting a happy 'woof.' Hermione whirled and stared at him in mild shock, her slitted feline eyes widening considerably. "Wow...you've done it Harry, you're an Animagus..." she said in awe, though she seemed slightly distracted. _'Is he the wolf from the prophecy?!' she thought quickly, but was interrupted before she could voice the idea._

            "Huh?" Ron muttered, blinking and wiggling his canine looking nose. "Hey Hermione, you've got stripes!" he said, sighting the odd markings on Hermione's cheeks and hand/paws. She smiled proudly, and Harry made what he hoped was a sound of approval. "And Harry...wow, I mean...we knew you were pretty good at this but, wow!" Ron said, and Harry lowered his head a bit, shrugging awkwardly. Just then, he heard an odd flapping sound from out in the hallway, and a moment later a large tawny owl flew in through the cracked door, landing on the back of Hermione's chair. 

            "How did he get in here?" Hermione asked, and Ron shrugged before getting up to untie the parchment tied to it's legs, seeming as he was the only one who still had hands. Harry cocked his head to the side when Ron frowned at the writing on the outside of the rolled parchment. "Well, who's it to?" Hermione asked as the owl flew off again. Ron sighed and handed it to Hermione.

            "It for Harry....from Sirius." Ron said. Just then, all the pride and contentment that Harry had been feeling drained away in an instant. A letter from Sirius...who still didn't know that the world had been tipped upside down....

Notes:: Okay, a new chapt should be up by Monday at the latest. Also, for those of you that were nice enough to send me pictures/poetry (you know who you are, hehe) I'll have those posted along with chapter 25, promise!!  I hope you all didn't hate this chapter too badly, ah well…TaTa!! And thanks for stickin' with me so long!!

NEXT CHAPTER:::  Monday classes, and the contents of the letter…


	25. A Small Comfort

Notes:: Er…no notes, aside from me not having the webpage updated yet. I'll let you know when I do.

A Father's Sin

By Severitus

Chapter 25---A Small Comfort

            Harry stared blankly at the page in the same, blank manner he had been all morning. First through Divination he'd stared at it rather than his notes on Rune casting, and then through Transfiguration he'd been doing the same. His eyes kept traveling over the same words, though his mind had long since stopped actually reading them. Instead, he was struggling to figure out what to do about it.

_Harry,_

_            I'm sorry I haven't contacted you in a while, I've been pretty busy lately. Lupin left me a note saying that he'd returned to Hogwarts. He didn't say why, but he did mention that it had something to do with you. Is everything alright? I just received an owl from Dumbledore asking if I could come back to the school as well. Unfortunately, he insisted on being pretty vague, though it definitely sounds like something is going on. All these 'rumors' floating around in the papers have got me worried about you, though oddly enough they have served to take the Ministry's eye off me for the moment. I'll be there in about two weeks, I hope you're still safe when I get there._

_~Sirius_

_PS. Don't forget to tell Dumbledore if your scar starts hurting._

Harry sighed and quietly slipped the letter back into an inside pocket, commencing to stare at his oddly written transfiguration notes. Sirius would arrive in two weeks. He'd come bounding up the doorway, fully expecting to find everything just the same as before. Instead, he'd find his Godson was no longer who he thought he was. Cringing slightly, Harry tried to focus his attention back on his notes, but his mind kept wandering. How would he break the news to him? He couldn't just stand there and say, 'Hi Sirius, it's me, Harry. Guess what? Snape's my dad and if I leave Hogwarts, I'll become Voldemort's evil minion! How've you been?' No...Harry certainly didn't imagine that it'd go over too well. He knew he could always take Lupin up on his offer to tell Sirius, but in all honesty he didn't like that idea much better. In some part of his mind, Harry felt guilty for everything that had happened, he felt that it was his responsibility to tell Sirius. He'd let him down somehow, he was the son of Sirius' enemy...the least he could do was tell him himself.

            With a subtle shake of his head, Harry pulled himself up out of his thoughts, dimly aware that someone next to him was talking. It was Malfoy, and it looked as if he'd been talking for a while now.

            "I still can't believe you were actually hanging around with them...." Malfoy drawled, grimacing in disgust as he cast a glance across the Transfiguration classroom. His eyes were casting a wary glare over at Ron, Hermione, and the 'fake' Harry, all of whom were properly engrossed in their work.

            "And I don't understand why it's such a big deal to you, Draco," Harry drawled in return, though he didn't once lift his eyes from the parchment of notes on the table before him. McGonagall was standing at the front of the classroom, droning on about turning cushions into kittens, completely oblivious to the quiet conversation.

            "They're in _Gryffindor_, Zack!" Malfoy hissed, his expression implying that that fact alone should be enough to make him cringe with revulsion.

            "And we're in Slytherin...your point being?" Harry replied, pausing in his note-taking long enough to raise an eyebrow at his 'friend.' Draco looked positively mortified, but he continued on with arms crossed.

            "Didn't you know that all Slytherins are supposed to despise Gryffindors? They're a bunch of muggle-loving, weak fools....they're even worse than Hufflepuffs." Malfoy persisted, and Harry had to struggle not to grit his teeth and growl out his next reply.

            "...and they're also brave and honorable, if I remember my trivia correctly. Ron, Hermione, and Harry seemed perfectly fine to me." he retorted, returning his gaze to his notes. He was trying to concentrate on what the teacher was saying as well as modifying his handwriting a bit, that alone would have been a dead giveaway of his true identity to any one of the teachers.

            "And that I don't understand even more than you hanging out with mere Gryffindors! Potter, of all people...do you have any idea what that will do to your reputation?" Malfoy continued, his eyes wide with disbelief.

            "I wasn't aware that I had a reputation." Harry shot back, his eyes half-closed with disinterest.

            "Listen Zack, people already respect you here. Half of our own house are scared of you, what with all those stories about your father, and I'm pretty sure the rest of the school wouldn't dare to speak against you. If it got out that you were socializing with...with _them_, then people'll start to think you're weak!" Malfoy said desperately, as if it were the most important thing in the world. _Ah_, Harry thought, _so that's one of Malfoy's worries._

            "And since when do I care what other people think?" Harry replied coolly, and Draco looked very much like he wanted to bash his head into the table with frustration. After a moment spent with his head on his parchment, Draco looked up again and leaned his arm on the table, jaw propped against his hand.

            "You are very strange, you do know that, right?" he said at last, his cool eyes regarding him oddly, struggling to find a reason for his odd point of view.

            "Ah yes...strange, I do believe I've been called that once or twice...." Harry said, tapping his jaw in feigned thought. Draco shook his head and dropped his hand to the desktop, fixing him with a determined glare.

                        "You and I are going to have a nice long talk tonight. It seems that it's been left to me to save you before you end up getting yourself in a real mess," he said, and Harry sighed in exasperation, the guy just wasn't going to give up.

            "Okay then, you can talk, but there's no guarantee that I'll listen," he warned, pointing the feather of his quill at Malfoy's nose for emphasis.

            "Forget it, you're not strange, you're crazy...." Draco nearly laughed, his mouth curved in an amused smile.

            "And I come from a very long line of proud crazy people, thank you very much," Harry replied, closing his eyes briefly before turning back to his notes. Draco, on the other hand, thought the comment was quite funny, and struggled to hide his stifled laughter from McGonagall.

            "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Snape...do you two have something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?" McGonagall asked, slowly turning her gaze toward them, though it was fixed far more sternly on Malfoy.

            "No, Professor," Malfoy stammered, his face paling, while a few Gryffindors snickered quietly in the back of the room. After shaking his own head to her obediently, Harry had to fight to hide the smile on his face. There were times when he would have killed to see Malfoy put on the spot like that, and, with a quick glance across the room, it appeared that Ron and Hermione were sharing similar feelings.

            "Then I would appreciate it if you would pay more attention. You will both see me after class," Harry frowned slightly as she turned away. It was only his first day as 'Zachary Snape,' and already he was in trouble. He hoped that it wouldn't be any indication of how the rest of the day would be.

            Malfoy grumbled something about grumpy old women under his breath, but Harry ignored him for the rest of the lesson. He wasn't about to get in trouble a second time, and above all he didn't want to draw any more attention to himself than necessary. He had more important things to worry about than snickering Gryffindors or Malfoy's biases.

            Class ended a short time later, and McGonagall instructed him to wait at the back of the room while she gave Malfoy an earful, as well as deducting ten points. Harry was silently thankful when she sent Malfoy on his way afterward, but it quickly shifted to nervousness when it was finally his turn to 'face the music.' Quietly, he approached McGonagall at her desk and stood patiently before it, just as he had that Saturday. Once again, her eyes traveled quickly over his face, most likely searching for some indication of guilt. However, when she finally spoke, he found he was mistaken.

            "Now, something has given me the impression that Mr. Malfoy was more to blame than you for that little disruption today," McGonagall said with a slight smile, and Harry openly gaped at her, disbelieving his luck. He pulled himself together after a moment, straightening up before answering.

            "I suppose, he was attempting to convince me of the inherent evil of all Gryffindors, he saw me talking with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter yesterday," he answered, and to his surprise, McGonagall gave a short burst of laughter. Though he was wise enough to hide it from his face, Harry was completely shocked by her odd shift in attitude. She wasn't nearly as stern to him as she had been to his...other self, what was going on?

            "Really? I suppose it's not all that surprising. I do hope you weren't taken in by all that nonsense...." she said, eyeing him once again.

            "Of course not Professor, I know a House rivalry when I see one, and I'll have no part in it." Harry answered resolutely and with complete honesty. In his current situation, a House Rivalry certainly wasn't the wisest of things to engage in; and that wasn't even mentioning the fact that technically he was now both Gryffindor AND Slytherin....

            "You surprise me, Mr. Snape, and I must say I'm impressed. I daresay I was expecting a younger version of your father when I first met you, I suppose I just assumed that you and Mr. Malfoy would be quick friends," McGonagall said, leaning back from her desk slightly.

            "My father was friends with Draco's dad?" Harry asked abruptly in surprise, and then was later further surprised by the fact that he hadn't consciously decided to say 'my father.'

            "I suppose you could call them that. They were always hanging around one another during their last few years of school, but before that Severus was more of a loner. I'm glad to see you making friends so quickly," she answered with a smile, and Harry was slightly relieved. Although, it did increase his curiosity a bit.

            "Er...thank you, Professor," he settled on replying.

            "You'd better get going to your next class, Mr. Snape. Don't let Malfoy distract you in class anymore, next time I'll have to take points." she warned, and Harry nodded quickly before darting out of the room, leaving McGonagall to the few 4th year students beginning to file in through the door.

            "Hey!" someone said behind him as Harry began to dash down the hallway. He stopped and turned; Ron, Hermione, and Lupin were all waiting for him. "Wait for us, will you?" Ron said as they came up next to him.

            "Sorry...I thought I was late." he muttered apologetically, and Lupin gave him a playful pat on the shoulder.

                        "Not quite, but we will be if we don't get going." Hermione said, as they all started walking towards the dungeons and their next class.

            "So what's up? I'm sure you weren't all just waiting around to escort the 'new' student to class...." Harry asked, and Lupin nodded after a moment.

            "I just wanted to let you know that this is the last class that I'll be here, in this form anyway. Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea for 'Harry Potter' to take off after this class, and for the announcement about 'your' absence to be made at dinner. We figured it couldn't hurt for us to be seen together one last time before that." Lupin said, and Harry nodded. The sooner 'Harry Potter' disappeared, the safer Lupin would be. He didn't even dare to imagine what would happen if the Ministry suddenly decided to break down the doors and come barging in, wands flashing. Undoubtedly the Ministry was busy looking for him elsewhere at the moment, probably having first suspected that Voldemort was responsible for his escape. However, it was only a matter of time until they decided to check Hogwarts, just in case....

            "Yeah...that is a good idea," Harry replied, his gaze focused on the ground. He hoped Lupin would stick around for a while afterward. Having Lupin around had proven to be great comfort...he knew he could feel free to talk to him if he needed too, and he knew he'd be understood in some way or another. After all, who better to help him survive a life-changing, than someone who'd been there, and done that? Although admittedly, it would be a relief to not have to stare at his own face all day...

            "Do you suppose Potions will be different now? What with...everything that's happened?" Ron asked, casting a curious glance between Harry and Lupin. Harry shrugged idly, shifting the pack of books across his shoulder. For the moment, Lupin was using Hermione and Ron's books for class, as Harry needed his own.

            "I dunno...I hope so. Though I wouldn't be surprised if he still yelled at you three, he still does have to keep up 'appearances,' so to speak. Beyond that, I don't know what to expect. I feel like I'm a first year all over again...." Harry muttered as they approached the door, and true to his word, stared at it apprehensively.

            "Relax, if anyone gets yelled at, it'll be me." Lupin said, and Harry thought he was probably right. He wouldn't doubt for a second that his father would jump at the chance to have Lupin at his mercy, in fact, he'd probably go out of his way to make the class hell for him.

            "Now that you mention it, you've got a point...." Harry said, and the conversation was ended on that note. They all fell silent as Hermione opened the door and they filed in, Harry immediately falling back into his 'new student' routine. He paused a moment to look around, before finally taking a seat in the empty back row. Thankfully, Malfoy was already seated in the front row, and hadn't yet noticed his arrival. Harry busied himself in digging a parchment and quill out of the confines of his bag as the few remaining students filed in, the majority of which cast at least a brief glance his way. _'They're probably wondering how I'll do at Potions,'_ Harry realized, and thus tried that much harder to make himself feel relaxed. He hoped desperately that he wouldn't botch anything up, though for some reason he didn't think he would. He'd thought it strange at the time, but his summer homework for Potions had been far easier than normal, as did the few potions they'd made so far this year.

            "Hello," a girl said as she sat down next to him, extending her hand, "I'm Rose Forester," she said, and Harry lightly shook her hand.

            "Zachary Snape, nice to meet you," he replied, watching her warily.

            "Would you mind if I was your partner for today's class?" she asked, and Harry shook his head.

            "Not at all," he replied, and turned his gaze back to the rest of the class. A few of the newly arrived Slytherins were staring at Rose rather jealously, and when he turned to look back at her, she was smiling proudly. Harry thought it was rather strange, yet amusing at the same time. Never before had he had anyone actually wanting to be his partner in potions, (well, excepting to obvious) though he supposed he should have expected it. After all, who better to be partnered with in potions, than the Potions Master's son? She probably figured she was in for an easy 'A.' Well, he'd be damned if he was going to do all the work, he was going to make sure that she did her fair share.

            All noise abruptly stopped when the classroom doors suddenly banged open, with the Potions Master himself making his entrance with his usual dark flare. Harry ignored his classmates curious gazes as he watched his father, doing his best to act as if this were his first time here. Professor Snape stopped behind his desk and whirled, pausing briefly to cast his eyes over the room, mentally checking for absences before proceeding with the lesson.

            "Turn to page 274 in your books. We shall first be taking a few brief notes on the potion listed, and then we'll be making it ourselves. Despite the fact that it is Monday and you have a new student in your midst, I expect you all to remain ON TASK. Now, quills and parchments out. Quickly, mind you." he said, and Harry couldn't resist a quick smile as he quickly flipped to the proper page in the textbook. Snape didn't appear flustered in the least, and Harry took a small comfort in that thought. Now at least he knew somewhat of what to expect.

            Everyone obediently took notes as ordered, though Harry was sure that he felt eyes on him on more than one occasion. Once in a while he would raise his gaze to meet them, returning their curious glance with a raised eyebrow and a blank stare. They got the message quickly enough, and usually didn't look back a second time. When it came to making the actual potion, however, more and more people seemed to be becoming distracted by his presence, constantly looking from their cauldron to his own. Harry merely went about his business as normal, comforted by the thought that he actually did know what he was doing. Rose, on the other hand, was having a bit of trouble. She kept trying to get Harry to show her how to do it correctly, but he insisted that she do it herself, while he helped her along. At first she was slightly put-off about it, but when she finished her potion early and correctly, she smiled brightly and thanked him.

            "Potter!" that same, menacing voice had boomed through the classroom at one point, "For once in your life pay attention to the notes, and ground up those snake fangs properly!" Snape had barked, and Lupin had replied with a feeble 'yes sir,' while Malfoy and co. immediately started snickering. Surprisingly, throughout the whole of the class Lupin only got yelled at twice, miraculously losing only 10 points in the process. However, the other Gryffindors weren't spared any of the Professor's usual malice.

            "Something interesting at the back of the room, Mr. Finnigan?" he barked toward the end of class, after he'd caught Seamus watching Harry. "I believe the proper way to make the potion can be found in the book, rather than in your classmate's cauldrons. Get back to work." he'd growled, leaving poor Seamus to shake while he tried to stir his potion. By the end of class, almost everyone had finished with at least a close to perfect potion, and they were all dismissed without having been traumatized to too much of a degree. On her way out of class, Rose thanked Harry yet again, and was immediately surrounded by a few other Slytherin girls on her way out, all anxious to ask her questions. Harry, on the other hand, decided to stay after class. It was the last class of the day, and he wanted to talk to his father while he had the chance. He packed away his things and waited until the last student drifted from the room, and then walked to the front of the classroom when his father waved him forward.

            "I trust things haven't gone too terribly today," Snape said, pausing in his task of erasing the blackboard to cast him a curious glance.

            "No, everything's gone pretty well. You seem to be back to your old self, as well." Harry added, throwing in a slight smile. The blackboard once again clean, Snape dropped down into his chair and turned to face him, his own mouth curved slightly.

            "A performance perfected with time and patience, I assure you." he said, his dark eyes shining with amusement. "Now, surely you haven't taken leave of your friends purely for the pleasure of my company." he added, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. Harry shifted nervously, biting his lip briefly before answering.

            "Er....Sirius sent me a letter yesterday," he said, and then lifted his gaze to gauge the reaction. Snape's expression seemed to freeze briefly, and he blinked quickly before saying anything.

            "Oh. I assume Dumbledore's been in contact with him then?" he asked flatly, and Harry shook his head.

            "He has, but not about what you think. He asked Sirius to come back here, but he didn't tell him about anything that's happened. He'll be here in two weeks." Harry said, his gaze lowered once again. His father sighed deeply and rose from his chair, moving to pace slowly behind the desk.

            "Are you going to reply to his letter?" he asked after a moment, pausing to return his gaze to the nervous boy standing before his desk.

            "No, I wasn't. It'd probably be best to just...wait, so he doesn't come barging in confused or..." Harry said, shifting nervously.

            "Ready to kill me?" Severus finished, his gaze fixed darkly on the floor. He did his best to control his anger, settling for clenching his teeth rather than cursing Black out loud in front of someone who actually _liked_ the murderer. Truth be told, he hadn't once spared a thought for the convict since the whole 'ordeal' had begun...it hadn't even crossed his mind that his son's Godfather might have a thing or two to say about everything. Now that threw yet another wrench into the works...In two weeks, he'd have that rabid Gryffindor at his throat, demanding that he cease whatever 'Dark Magic' he'd worked on the boy. Although, he admitted, he'd most likely be throwing a curse or two Black's way as well. There was no way in hell that he'd let that ruddy dog risk that precious bit of progress he and Harry had managed to make. 

            A sudden motion in the corner of his eye drew his attention away from his thoughts and anger, and he whirled around to see Harry, palm pressed to his scar and teeth gritted in pain. A moment later and Harry had sunk to his knees, one hand braced on the floor while his other tried to press away to pain. Severus was at his side in an instant, down on one knee before him and one hand gripping his shoulder tightly. At first, Harry didn't seem aware of him at all, his eyes were clenched tightly shut and his breath was coming in quick jets. Severus squeezed his shoulder tighter, struggling to snap him out of whatever fit he'd fallen victim to.

            "Harry!" he called, though his voice wavered slightly. Albus had told him about Harry's scar hurting him before, acting as some sort of warning device, and then the more recent 'vision' he'd had because of both it and the Mark. However, he'd never actually seen one of the 'attacks' before, and it scared him. In fact, seeing his son in such pain and not being able to do a damn thing about it _terrified_ him, and lit a bon fire beneath that strange new feeling that he'd only recently begun to associate with his son. He shook the boy's shoulders lightly, hissing out his name twice more. Again, there was no response. Severus was just about to dash off to the fireplace to summon Poppy when Harry let out gush of breath, wavering unsteadily on his knees. Severus steadied him carefully, his eyes wide as he waited for Harry to come around completely.

            "Vol..." he began, but grimaced, and pressed a hand to his scar briefly again, "..he...killed them...they...killed all of them...." he managed, before finally lifting his head briefly and opening his eyes. His face was pale, and his eyes were wide and slightly panicked, shining wetly in the dim light. 

            Severus froze, staring in mild shock as Harry struggled unsuccessfully to regain control of himself. Severus wasn't quite sure what part of his mind took control of him at that moment, but he knew Voldemort's newest victims were the very least of his immediate worries. In fact, the only thought he spared them was that Harry had been forced to witness their murders firsthand. All that mattered in that moment was the crumpled figure knelt before him, struggling vainly to shake off the pain and confusion caused by whatever he'd seen. Completely at the mercy of that strange, new feeling, Severus pulled the limp and shaking figure of his son to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around the thin form. He wasn't even surprised when Harry lifted his arms and wrapped them around his back, face pressed tightly against his shoulder. Raising one hand, he drew his fingers gently through his son's long hair, waiting quietly for the subtle shaking to cease.

            "I'm sorry," a muffled voice from his shoulder suddenly said, and Severus blinked, awareness slowly returning.

            "For what?" he asked, noticing with a little fear and gratitude that neither one of them had made any attempt at moving.

            "For collapsing," Harry said softly, sucking in several calming breaths.

            "Don't be," Severus replied, and was finally surprised when the pair of arms around him suddenly tightened, as if fearing he'd try to escape, "I'm not going anywhere," he assured, before tightening his own embrace, and he'd never said a truer word in his life. He'd no sooner take a dive out the Astronomy Tower window that he would move an inch from his current spot. The last time he'd been this close to anyone had been far too long ago to remember, and he wasn't about to let it go. As he sat there with his own flesh and blood held tightly to him, he felt that same flare of protectiveness rise up in his chest, far stronger than the last time he'd recognized its presence. And along with it, the strange new feeling from earlier had intensified tenfold, tightening his chest and demanding that he keep his arms exactly where they were. Against him, he could sense Harry finally calming down, his breathing deep and even and the shaking finally diminishing.

"I'm not going anywhere...." he repeated softly, smiling warmly at the child clutched tightly in his arms.

-------------End 25------------

Notes:: I dunno if I'll have next one on Tuesday or not…it depends if I can write that fast! Therefore, no guarantees! Ah well….sorry if it seemed like it was moving a bit quickly there, but trust me, I haven't pulled any instant, drastic changes to Harry and Severus. They're still learning, hehe.


	26. True Lies Part I

Notes:: Okay, here it is. This chapter's a bit funky, as I was having trouble with it, but there was some stuff I needed to fit in here before I start shaking the foundations again. Like, who died for example. Ah well, rest assured, there'll be a new chapter tomorrow, and hopefully it will be out earlier than this one.

A Father's Sin

by Severitus

Chapter 26---True Lies

            Draco Malfoy was a little worried, and very much annoyed. Normally, his father would let him know ahead of time when to expect an interesting headline in the paper, but this time he hadn't heard a word. Draco had been just as shocked as the rest of the school when they'd read the front page of the Daily Prophet, and quite honestly, he was worried. Oh no, he wasn't concerned for his own safety or for the families of the victims, he was worried about his father. If his father hadn't been in on the attack, and hadn't even known about it...then something was definitely up.     

            The sight of a familiar figure outside of a nearby window caused him to stop in his tracks and veer in for a closer look. Just a few feet from the window, Zachary Snape was seated on the steps of the school, a copy of the daily prophet fisted white-knuckled in one hand. He was staring off toward the distant Quidditch pitch, where Gryffindor was currently practicing, but his eyes were glazed over in thought. As Draco watched, Zachary suddenly snapped out of his thoughts and unrolled the paper, glaring strangely at the main article, the one that read;

**'DURMSTRANG MASSACRE!-_Serpent's Children to blame?_**

**'The renowned magic school of Durmstrang was nearly destroyed yesterday, when attacked by a group rumored to be the mythical 'Serpent's Children.' Investigators refuse to comment on the validity of this suspicion. It is not yet known how many lives were lost during the attack, though it has been agreed upon that there are very few survivors, and many more missing. No names have been released yet, as an investigation of the premesis is currently underway. Durmstrang was undoubtedly one of the most well-protected institutions of the wizarding world, falling just below Hogwart's, Beaubaton's and Gringott's on the degree of constant security. It is unknown how the attackers were able to breach the protection spells guarding the school, though it is suspected to be the work of someone from within the school. The Minister will make a public announcement regarding the attacks on....' _etc, etc,_******

            Draco frowned in thought as his obviously distressed housemate raked a hand back through his hair, after tightly rolling up the paper once again. Zachary hadn't really seemed to be surprised at all at lunchtime, when the newspapers had arrived bearing the ill news. In fact....he'd seemed much quieter and more distant than usual. 'I wonder....' Draco thought, his brows furrowing, _'did he already know about it? Did Professor Snape know about the attacks?' he thought, and then shook his head. No, if Snape knew, then his own father would have known as well, and would have warned him ahead of time. But then again...maybe Zack had found out about the attack in some other way? Oh, Draco had had plenty of suspicions about the Potions Master's son, but he hadn't been able to confirm any of them. Draco knew very well that the so-called 'mythical' Serpent's Children existed, and that he himself had a brother among their ranks (though they'd never met), but could Zachary possibly be one? He was the right age, he was the son of a Death Eater, and Draco hadn't heard a word mentioned about his mother (though it was rumored that she was dead)...so, could he be? Immediately after his arrival, Draco had written his father about the 'new student,' but he hadn't yet received a reply. The suspense was killing him._

            Moving away from the window, Draco quietly opened the door the led out onto the steps, and decided to do a little prodding, if he could. Zachary didn't look up when he approached, but rather continued his blank stare across the field.

            "How pitiful are they today?" Draco asked with a smug grin, arms crossed across his chest. Zack didn't look up when he answered.

            "They're not so bad, though a captain and a seeker would certainly help," he replied, and Draco sat down on the steps nearby, reclining back across them.

            "So, what's eating you? Not even the Hufflepuffs are this shook up over Durmstrang," Draco said, forming his expression into a properly concerned one. If he asked the right questions, perhaps he wouldn't have to wait around for his father's letter to get an answer....However, that hope was dashed a second later, when Zachary leveled a cold glare at him that rivaled by far the Potions Master's own piercing gaze. Draco shivered. For a moment, Zachary only continued to glare at him, but then it lessened for a second as he seemed to think about something, rolling some thought around before putting voice to it.

            "You are aware that I attended O'Reilly before this." he said, and Draco nodded after a moment. "And where do you think most of students from O'Reilly went, _after it was attacked?!" Zachary hissed, and Draco's eyes widened as he finally realized just why he was so distressed over the whole thing._

            "Durmstrang," he answered, looking away from the piercing green gaze. Of course, he should have expected Zack to be at least somewhat upset. After all, his own school had been reduced to rubble not a month before, and the surviving students, some of which had probably been friends of his, had just been brutally murdered.

            "Correct." he replied sharply, and to Draco's great relief finally turned his gaze back to the distant Quidditch field. Draco sat watching him for a moment, his eyes still wide with surprise. It was apparent that the short conversation had been brought to an abrupt end, and wouldn't be continuing any time soon. As quietly as he could, Draco rose from the steps and slunk back inside the castle. 

            "Smooth, Draco," he muttered to himself, glaring darkly at the floor. _Some spy I'm turning out to be, he thought. _

----------------------------------

            "You don't think they'll be sent here next, do you?" Lupin asked warily, his cup of tea long forgotten.

            "No, the spells surrounding Hogwarts are far too strong for Voldemort to breach. Durmstrang was well protected, but not against a direct assault." Severus replied tiredly, his eyes cast down toward his own cup of untouched tea.

            "The only thing we must be concerned with is the welfare of those outside of the protection spells. All Hogsmeade trips will have to canceled, obviously." The Headmaster said from behind his desk, an open copy of the Daily Prophet spread before him.

            "What about those students who are loyal to the Dark Lord? Surely they could be used to get beyond the barriers...." Remus persisted, eyes wide with worry.

            "Do not worry yourself Remus, the only way harm could befall anyone on school grounds would be if they were lured beyond the protection spells, and that is why it is imperative that the students remain on the grounds. I would like you to assist Hagrid in making sure that this is so." Dumbledore said, both his voice and gaze firm with determination.

            "Of course, Headmaster," Remus replied, bowing his head slightly. After a moment, he finally relented in picking up his cup and taking a tiny sip, his eyes glazed with worry and thought.

            "Severus," Dumbledore said, shifting his attention to the man seated in the second chair, "Have you spoken to Harry yet today?" Severus finally raised his eyes at the question, setting his teacup aside on the nearby table. Though his expression betrayed nothing, his eyes swirled with the same concern and worry that plagued Lupin.

            "Yes...I spoke to him briefly after lunch. He's still a bit shaken up, but everything appears to be normal." he replied, his expression very briefly shifting into one of relief.

            "Good...and hopefully it will remain so. But nevertheless, I've asked for the assistance of a few old friends in strengthening the barriers, they should be arriving in about two weeks time." the Headmaster said, and both Severus and Remus looked up in surprise.

            "Ah...so that's why you contacted Black." Severus said, and Remus cast a confused gaze between him and the Headmaster

            "Partially, yes. Harry told you, I suspect?" the Headmaster asked, his lips quirking into a slight smile. Severus kept his expression precisely the same as it had been before, but he spared the older wizard an appraising glance. He'd expected the Headmaster to reply in the negative to his mention of Black's invitation. After all, Black had been invited _before the Durmstrang attack...surely the Headmaster hadn't expected such a tragedy to occur? Instead of asking, he chose to sit back and wait for a while....the Headmaster always had his reasons._

            "Surprisingly, yes. That's the reason he stayed after class yesterday, actually, when the attack occurred." Severus replied to the question that actually had been asked.

            "And by the fact that you're still on speaking terms with one another, I gather you didn't lose your temper?" Dumbledore asked, his mouth quirked into an amused smile.

            "Er...no, I did not," Severus replied, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

            "Well, that's a first," Lupin said, and Severus turned to see that he, too, was smiling in amusement.

            "Now now, Remus, that's a big step in the right direction." the Headmaster chided playfully, though he and the werewolf both continued to smile. 

            "Do you two merely wish to torment me further, or was there something else you..." Severus began to snap back, but froze mid-sentence, his face paling. _'Damnit, not now....' he thought darkly, gritting his teeth at the fierce pain suddenly shooting up his arm._

            "Severus?" Dumbledore asked, and Severus snapped his gaze back onto the older wizard's.

            "I must go." he said shortly, one hand clamped tightly over his left forearm. Dumbledore's eyes widened immediately, his own face paling slightly.

            "Good luck." he said, and Severus nodded before dashing out the door, not sparing anyone a second glance. Silence remained for a moment after his departure, with two sets of worried eyes focused on the empty doorway. Lupin snapped out of it first, tearing his eyes away to watch the Headmaster.

            "Was that the summoning?" he asked quietly, and Dumbledore nodded slowly before returning his gaze.

            "Yes...most likely the Dark Lord will question him about his son tonight, among other things." Dumbledore sighed, leaning heavily back in his chair.

            "I honestly never thought I'd say this...but I hope he manages to come back in one piece. That story we cooked up may not be enough to appease the Dark Lord...."

            "Severus will not fail...now he has more reason than ever to succeed." Dumbledore said firmly, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at the desktop.

            "Yes, I suppose he does...he really is changing, isn't he?" Remus said thoughtfully, and Dumbledore nodded.

            "Yes, I believe Harry has finally managed to awaken a bit of the 'paternal instinct' in Severus...it'll do the both of them good." Dumbledore said, casting one last glance toward the empty doorframe. Remus followed his gaze, his eyebrows knitted in thought and worry. If something happened to Severus now...what would that do to Harry, now that they were finally starting to get along? Remus didn't want to think about it, just as he didn't like thinking about Sirius' reaction when he received news of the 'situation.' It wouldn't be pretty, and though Remus hated the thought of facing off against his friend, he knew he'd stand at Severus side if blow came to blow. The man was changing, and definitely for the better...and Remus wasn't about to argue against it. _'You better get back here in one piece, you greasy git.' he thought, staring off through the empty doorway._

------------------end 26-------------------------

Notes:: Sorry this was short...but fear not! There'll be another chapter tomorrow! Mum came to visit today, so I didn't get to write as much as I wanted! Now, I know a lot of you are looking forward to Sirius' reaction...so guess what? You will definitely be getting a taste of it next chapter, though not quite the one you're thinking of....MWAHAHAHA!!!! Although, I think you'll like it anyway. TaTa!!


	27. True Lies, part II

Notes:: Er…this is another funky chapter….I was having a hard time figuring out how to get this all in here, so it's a bit choppy and has a couple time changes. But don't worry! It's just for this chapter! There were some things that needed to happen, and my brain just wasn't havin' much fun doin' it (it was wanting to write the NEXT chapter..hehe), so here they are. 

A Father's Sin

By Severitus

Chapter 27---True Lies, part II

            It was that rickety old house again, the very same damn place they'd had to apparate to all summer long. Only three other Death Eaters were in the large, library-like room when Severus arrived, and that was not a good sign. For most summonings, almost all of the Death Eaters were called, unless the Dark Lord had some special task (or punishment) in mind for a particular one. Voldemort himself was seated in his usual high-backed chair, legs crossed and an almost bored expression on his face. However, the instant he sighted Severus, the eyes shifted from idly threatening to penetrating, their crimson glare shining like blood in the dim light.

            "Snape. Come here." the low, hissing voice commanded. Severus did as he was told, falling to his knees to kneel before his 'master.' Just off to the side, the other Death Eaters, who were none other than the elder Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, were staring at him smugly. _'Not good....this is not good....._' Severus thought, raising himself partially from the floor. The Dark Lord inclined his head slightly to look down at him, his paper-white flesh half obscured by shadow.

            "Malfoy here has brought some me interesting news, Snape." the Dark Lord hissed, and Severus cringed slightly, "It has come to my attention, that you have a son," he said, saying the last word as if it were something wretched. Lucius was smiling proudly from across the room.

            "I do, my lord," Severus answered, but Voldemort seemed unmoved by his admission.

            "Zachary, isn't it?" Voldemort mused, glancing up in thought, "I wonder...why have I not heard of him before? Malfoy seems to think it quite a curious thing as well." he said, and Severus fought hard not to tremble or break his neutral mask.

            "I have played only a very small role in his life until recently, my Lord. He was attending school near NewCastle," he replied flatly, his gaze cast respectfully toward the floor. The Dark Lord seemed to consider this for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward in the chair.

            "And what of his mother? He is fifteen, the right age...was she one of the mudbloods brought here to serve my purposes?" he hissed angrily, faintly sharp teeth bared in an angry snarl. Severus lowered himself further toward the floor, palms pressed flatly against the wooden flooring.

            "No, my Lord. She was a pureblood I had a brief relationship with...she died when Zachary was five." he said, hoping desperately that the Dark Lord would believe him. After a moment, Voldemort leaned back slightly, raising a hand to his chin in thought.

            "And where has he been all this time?" Voldemort asked, voice low, though it had lost most of its initial fury.

            "His grandmother raised him until last year, when she died herself. Since then he's been staying at O'Reilly's, but....as it no longer exists, I thought it best to bring him to Hogwarts." Severus answered quickly, taking pride in the fact he'd managed to keep his voice and breathing perfectly calm and normal.

            "I take it that he does not bear the Mark of the Serpent, then." Voldemort hissed, his voice tinged with slight disappointment. Normally, that would have been a bad sign, but this time it was not. If Voldemort thought for any reason that 'Zachary' was a Serpent's Child...then he'd be ordered to give him over to the Dark Lord immediately.

            "No, my Lord, he does not." Severus said, thankful that his voice reflected none of the relief he truly felt. The Dark Lord was going to believe him...the plan was working... Voldemort turned his head to stare at the other three Death Eaters then, instantly snapping them out of their slight dazes.

            "Lucius, I want you to check the validity of his story at once." he commanded, and Severus mentally screamed for joy. Lucius wouldn't find a thing to prove otherwise, Dumbledore's great-grandson had seen to that. Harry was safe...for the moment.

            "As you command, my Lord," Lucius replied with a large bow, and he, Crabbe, and Goyle instantly disapparated. 

            "As for you, Severus...I do not yet know if I should believe your story, as your loyalty to me is still in question. However, I am sure that you know the penalty for keeping things from me...." the Dark Lord began, his voice dropping into a vicious growl. 

            "Yes, my Lord, I know the penalty," Severus replied, and immediately clenched his teeth and tensed his muscles, preparing for what he knew was to come.

            "Crucio." the Dark Lord hissed, and the penalty was served.

----------------------

~the next day~

            "....and then the Bludger came whirling back and Fred barely caught it in time!" Ron finished as they turned toward the door outside, headed for their Care of Magical Creatures class. Evidently, practice for the Gryffindor team had been quite a interesting event, Harry almost wished that he'd decided to go after all.

            "So when are you guys getting a new Captain and Seeker?" Hermione asked as they opened the doors and headed outside the castle. She was obviously only mildly interesting in Ron's answer, but he replied nevertheless.

            "Well, Fred and George agreed to co-captain for now, and we'll probably hold tryouts for Seeker next practice. Everybody's nervous without you,  Ha---er...'Zachary," Ron said, now that a few other students were heading across the field as well.

            "Well, at least they're not cheering," Harry said with a smile, 'yet, anyway,' he finished silently.

            "Hey, what's that?" Hermione said suddenly, slowing to a stop as she stared off toward the border. Harry and Ron turned their gazes toward where she was looking, and gaped in shock.

            "Dementors," Harry hissed, jaws clenched as he felt his blood run cold. There were three of them just at the border, heads turned toward the grounds as their frayed cloaks flapped in the mild breeze. Somehow everything seemed darker around them, as if they brought along a few extra shadows wherever they went.

            "What are they doing here?!" Ron gulped, his face suddenly growing pale.

            "Looking for me, I imagine. I suspect the Ministry brought them." Harry said softly, struggling to tear his eyes away from the horrific figures.

            "Come on, let's get to class," Hermione urged, her widened eyes darting quickly from the dark figures to where the rest of the class was gathering.

            "Yeah..." Harry agreed, as they all started off once again. 

--------------------

~the day after that~ (A/N--I told you there were a lot of time changes…)

            In a small wizarding village located not far from the middle of nowhere, a dog sat staring at a window. Now, the window belonged to the average wizard's home, being in no way special or different from any other window, but the dog was a different story. The dog had been staring at the window for the past fifteen minutes, waiting, just as he had been at the same time the day before. Suddenly, someone moved past the window on the inside, and the dog turned his head just slightly enough to watch the door beside the window. Sure enough, the door swung open a moment later, and out wandered a tiny house elf, smiling cheerily as it went about it's task. A moment later, and the elf had retreated within the house, watching through the window as the dog approached the trash can it had placed outside the door. On the very top of the trash can was the thing of interest, the most recent edition of the Daily Prophet. The dog gave a quick yip of thanks to the elf, and then took off down the empty street, the newspaper held gently between its jaws.

            The dog didn't stop until it was just outside of the town, and crouched comfortably behind a particularly thick stand of trees. And then, suddenly, he was no longer a dog.

            "Now all I need is a cup of coffee," the man, who indeed was Sirius Black, laughed to himself as he unrolled the paper. It had been his routine for the past three days, retrieving the used Daily Prophet from the kindly House Elf and then retreating into the woods to read it. If he could have figured out how to bring a cup of coffee along, he most certainly would have.

            _'Let's see....it's not as if today's headline could possibly beat yesterday's..._' he thought, before casting his eyes over the front page. However, he hadn't even read beyond the headline before he found himself to be very, very, wrong.

**Harry Potter: The Boy-Who-Disappeared?**

            Sirius blinked, his eyes widening as he read it over a second time, just to be sure he wasn't seeing things. "What in the hell?!" he muttered, teeth gritted as he ran his eyes over the rest of the article, growing angrier and more worried at the same time.

            **Yesterday evening, when Ministry officials arrived at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they discovered that Harry Potter had disappeared. The Ministry had intended to question Harry in regards to recently discovered evidence suggesting that he was in league with You-Know-Who. According to the school, Harry had to leave due to a family emergency of some sort. However, after questioning his family, this was proven to be false. Harry had, in fact, vanished without a trace. Though many will find it hard to believe that the beloved Harry Potter could be anything other than a hero, the Ministry advises everyone to be extremely careful should they meet him, and to report his presence to the authorities immediately. **

            Sirius sat and gaped at the newspaper for a moment, before tossing it violently to the ground with a very dog-like growl. _'And the Ministry shows its Dark Side once again...'_ he thought darkly, his eyes narrowed at the thought. _'I'll be damned if I let them ruin Harry's life like this,_' he growled mentally, and swiftly changed back into a dog.

            Without sparing a second glance at the tiny village behind him, he took off down a long dusty road, paws pounding against the cool earth. He'd bet his life that Harry hadn't disappeared at all, Dumbledore probably had him hidden off someplace for the time being. But why on earth would the Ministry think that Harry had gone dark? That rat Lucius Malfoy probably had something to do with it...spreading rumors around or some other such nonsense. But nevertheless, Sirius wasn't about to wait around for two weeks reading papers to see what was going on. He'd been made Harry's Godfather for a reason after all, and if Dumbledore didn't see fit to tell him about it, well, he'd just find out for himself.

-------------End 27---------------------

Notes:: yep, 'twas short, but oh well! NEXT CHAPTER—Severus vs. Sirius! I fooled you with this chapter didn't I? MWAHAHAHA!!!! Sorry about that, I have too much fun...I swear…..Oh, and don't worry, I haven't ignored Harry's reaction to Severus' getting a little beaten up by Voldemort, in his above little interlude he didn't know about it yet. Ah well…I hope you're still with me after this horrid thing…blech…


	28. Sirius Returns

Notes: well, here's the first part….

A Father's Sin

By Severitus

Chapter 28---Sirius Returns

"Hagrid...can't breath..." Harry wheezed as the half-giant submitted him to a long, bone-crushing hug. Immediately the grip was loosened with a mumbled apology, but Hagrid kept his hands on Harry's shoulders as he looked him over, his eyes brimming with happy tears.

"I jus' knew you didn't go dark, 'arry!" Hagrid rumbled happily, before quickly wiping away a few tears and motioning for Harry to sit down once again.

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, Hagrid," Harry apologized, shifting nervously as Hagrid looked him over from across the table. Hermione and Ron were seated nearby, but were currently watching the other two in polite silence. When they'd arrived at Hagrid's hut a half-hour before, the gamekeeper had been a little uneasy around Harry. He, like most of the rest of the school, didn't know much about 'Zachary Snape.' After everything had been properly explained, and Harry's true identity revealed, Hagrid's mood had shifted in an instant. After Harry's supposed 'disappearance,' he'd been absolutely crushed, refusing to believe any of the rumors quickly circulating around the school.

"Don' worry 'bout it, 'arry! You've 'ad a lot on yer mind, 'specially with those Ministry folks wanderin' 'round the school," Hagrid said with a wave of his hand, and then an annoyed glare cast off to the side, in the direction of the school border and the dementors. "I'm jus' glad that yer alright!"

"Thanks, Hagrid..." Harry said, shifting nervously under the attention. Hagrid laughed before reaching over and giving him a mighty pat on the back, which nearly sent Harry face-first into the table.

"It's a good look fer ya too, it fits ya better," Hagrid said once Harry had recovered, and was hastily pushing his hair back behind his ears.

"I suppose...I'm still getting used to it." Harry replied, his expression a bit darker. He hadn't told anyone that he still avoided looking into mirrors when he didn't have to, a habit he knew he'd have to get over soon.

"Understandable," Hagrid said, and looked about read to say something else when Fang suddenly perked up from his seat by the fireplace. "What is it boy?" he said instead, but the dog only whined oddly and cocked his head as if in confusion. Ron and Hermione both rose from their seats and looked out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever had the dogs interest.

"Harry...you might want to have a look at this..." Ron said, his face slightly pale as he moved away from the window. Harry raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but rose from his seat and head toward the window, slightly worried about what he would find. Had the dementors crossed the border? he wondered, biting his lip slightly as he leaned toward the murky glass. At first, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. But then a large, dark, quickly moving shape caught his interest, and his jaw dropped in shock. A very familiar black dog was currently speeding across the grounds toward Hogwarts, his huge paws kicking up small clods of earth as he flashed by.

"Is it...? Hermione asked tentatively, and Harry nodded, his eyes wide with dawning horror.

"Snuffles." he said, and stepped away from the window. "Hagrid, I'm sorry about this, but I've got to go..." he continued, casting an apologetic glance at the slightly confused man.

"That's alright, 'arry, as long as you promise ta come an visit more ofen." Hargid said, his confusion transforming into a smile.

"Thanks Hagrid," he said, and cast a look at Ron and Hermione.

"We'll see you later, Harry. Good Luck." Hermione said, obviously understanding what he'd been asking. He nodded in gratitude and took off out the door, muttering a quick goodbye to them all.

-------------------------------------

_'He'd better be here...he'd better be here...' _Sirius thought as he dashed down the halls of the school, dodging around the frequent startled student or professor on his way toward the Headmaster's office. He hadn't been nearly as frantic about the situation until he'd approached the Hogwarts grounds, and sighted the dementors floating in the distance. They were a telltale sign that the Ministry didn't think it was merely a possibility that Harry had gone dark, but was a downright fact. A search of the school was probably underway at the very moment...and probably had been going on for several days.

Skidding to a stop before the gargoyle, Sirius let out a let out a loud, frantic bark, before whining and pawing at the statue. Hopefully a Professor would come by and open the statue, if Dumbledore himself didn't hear the noise. Sirius didn't have to wait long, for a moment later the gargoyle swung open, and a faintly surprised Albus Dumbledore stood looking down at him.

"Ah, hello Snuffles. I wasn't expecting you for a while yet," he said, and motioned the dog toward his office. After they'd climbed the stairs and entered the office itself, Dumbledore closed the door and muttered a quick silencing spell over the room, and act that only served to further Sirius' worry. Once the spell was cast, Sirius transformed into his true self and whirled to face the Headmaster, his eyes wide and breath coming in tired puffs.

"Please tell me that he's okay," Sirius managed once he'd caught his breath. Dumbledore sank into the chair behind the desk and gave him a small smile, though his eyes were devoid of their usual twinkle.

"He is fine, Sirius. He's still here at school, carefully disguised from all but a select few." Dumbledore assured, smiling at his former student.

"Thank Merlin...when I read that article in the paper, I didn't know what to think," Sirius said, falling heavily into the chair in obvious relief.

"He's safe for now, Sirius, you have no need to worry," Dumbledore assured again, though something in his expression made Sirius glance at him curiously, narrowing his eyes slightly. Something was going on...

"What is it, Headmaster? Something's troubling you..." he asked, leaning forward toward the desk. Dumbledore flicked his eyes up to meet his gaze, but they no longer held the same calming, happy twinkle that they had a moment before.

"I'm afraid that many things have changed recently, most of which have been very hard for the people involved to deal with. I'm afraid it will be just as hard for you, as well." Dumbledore replied reluctantly, and Sirius' eyes widened slightly, worry for his godson once again flaring.

"What is it? Is it Harry?" he asked quickly, realizing that whenever something big happened, it usually involved Harry in one way or another.

"Yes, but I believe he would rather tell you about it than me. I think he feels as if he's let you down somehow...though I assure you he has acted bravely and admirably in light of everything that has happened." Dumbledore said, a hint of pride glinting within his bright blue eyes. Sirius, on the other hand, cocked an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes slightly, struggling to come up with something that could possibly inspire Harry to feel that way.

"Where is he?" he asked lowly, his eyebrows furrowed with determination. If Dumbledore claimed that Harry had acted bravely and admirably, well, Sirius was going to make sure that Harry knew that too. And, of course, he'd ask him what in the world was going on.

"I would assume somewhere about the grounds, as it has been a rather fine day..." Dumbledore began, and Sirius was up and heading for the door in an instant, his face twisted with worry and determination. "Sirius!" he stopped at hearing his name, whirling to see the Headmaster's stern gaze upon him.

"Yes?" he asked warily, hoping that the Headmaster wouldn't advise him against talking to his godson.

"Try to be open minded. He is still your godson, he needs your support." Dumbledore said, his expression softened to one of gravity and concern.

"I do my best, but I must admit you've got me worried." Sirius admitted, shifting nervously under the scrutinizing gaze.

"Very well, I'll be here for most of the evening if you wish to discuss anything," Dumbledore said after a moment, hopefully convinced that Sirius would indeed heed his advice.

"Thank you," Sirius said softly, and turned quickly out the door. He practically flew down the stairs, his tattered cloak whipping behind him. Only when the stone gargoyle began to open up again did he finally change back into a dog, before dashing out into the hallway beyond.

Where would Harry be? he wondered, pelting down the hallway past several surprised students. Down at the Quidditch field? Visiting Hagrid? He honestly had no idea, but decided to check the Quidditch field first, it seemed like the most likely of places.

As he nearly skidded around a corner, he nearly crashed into a dark figure running in the other direction. He would have kept on running, but something in the way the boy was staring at him made him stop and take a better look. The tall boy was a Slytherin, probably a fifth year, he thought, cocking his head to the side as the boy stepped cautiously forward. Normally Sirius would have avoided the Slytherin students at all costs (for safety reasons, mostly), but this one didn't appear to intend him any harm. Something definitely seemed familiar about his face...the slant of the eyes, the sharp cheekbones, the long hair...Suddenly, he realized who it looked like. The boy looked an awful lot like Severus Snape did when he was in school, though those bright green eyes seemed familiar for a completely different reason...

"Sirius?" the boy asked softly, and Sirius couldn't keep himself from gaping even in his canine form. How did this boy know who he was! Had his cover been blown? Was he a friend of Harry's? Wait, no...the last didn't make sense, the boy was a Slytherin after all. Sirius froze and stared as another idea crept into his mind. Was _this_ Harry! Was this the 'disguise' Dumbledore had been talking about?

Sirius paused in his thoughts as the boy suddenly cast a wary gaze up and down the hall. Convinced that it was empty, he walked over to a nearby door and pushed it open, sticking his head in to make sure no one was in there as well. After a moment, he turned back to the hallway and held open the door, motioning him quickly inside. Sirius did as he asked, keeping his gaze on the boy the entire time. If this wasn't Harry or one of his friends, then there was the possibility that he would turn him in to the Ministry...

"You're early!" the boy exclaimed, and his face looked torn between several emotions. It was an odd mix of excitement, fear, regret, and nervousness, all fighting for dominance of his expression. Sirius blinked at him, and decided to take his chances.

"...Harry...?" he asked, once again in human form. The teen gave a slow nod, his eyes swirling with a hint of shame for some reason or another.

"Hi, Sirius," he muttered, a half-smile briefly claiming his lips. Sirius sat back against an empty desk and stared at him openly, his dark eyes wide with surprise and relief.

"Wow...it _is_ you...Dumbledore wasn't kidding when he said you were disguised." he said at long last, his own face twisted into an amazed smile. Still, he did look a lot like Snape...was that part of the disguise too? Did the greasy git have something to do with Harry's disguise, or whatever else was going on? "Y'know, you kinda look like Snape..." Sirius settled on saying, hoping that Harry would have an answer for his questions.

"Yeah, I know..." Harry muttered, running a hand back through his hair. Again the slight look of guilt and shame crossed his features, and when he looked up from the floor, his eyes were wide with slight fear, "How much did the Headmaster tell you?" he asked, and Sirius narrowed his eyes in slight confusion.

"Just that you were safe, still here at Hogwarts, and disguised from almost everyone. He did say that some things had changed, but he didn't say what exactly," he replied, watching as Harry sighed deeply with relief. "What's going on?" he asked, and Harry shifted nervously on his feet, not looking him in the eye.

"Oh...well, it's just that a couple things have been discovered that nobody really knew about before, pretty...big things." he said, his voice quavering slightly at the last.

"Like what...?" Sirius asked, almost afraid of what the answer would be. Harry sucked in a deep breath before replying, but then squared his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.

"Sirius, the way I look, it...isn't a disguise." he said at last, and Sirius blinked. How could it not be a disguise? Unless, of course, Harry had for some reason decided he wanted to stay looking like he was. If that was the case, unusual as it sounded, Sirius couldn't really blame him for it, even if he didn't understand it. After all, even with it's resemblances to Snape, the new look really did seem to fit Harry, in a strange way.

"What? I...don't think I understand..." he settled on replying, and settled back to wait patiently for an explanation.

"My mum put a glamourie spell on me after I was born...Dumbledore removed it when the Ministry decided to come after me. This is pretty much the real me," Harry said, raising his eyes briefly once again.

"Pretty much...?" Sirius stammered, his eyes wide with renewed confusion. Why on earth would Lily cast a spell like that? Unless, of course, she'd done it to disguise Harry from Voldemort...though that didn't really make sense either. Right then and there Sirius admitted to himself that he'd never been more confused in his life.

"I'll get to that in a minute." Harry said, waving off the question. Then he took another deep breath and locked their gazes, his nervous shifting temporarily halted. "Promise me that you won't freak out too much when I tell you the rest, okay?" he asked, his voice low with absolute seriousness.

"I'll try my best, Harry, but I'm already confused..." Sirius said with a firm nod, his expression showing just how lost he truly was.

"Okay," Harry said, then leaned against a desk across from Sirius, "Do you remember back in 1980, when Voldemort was having the Death Eaters kidnap muggle-born witches?" he asked tentatively. He didn't know for sure if his Godfather knew about that, or if it had been publicized after he'd been imprisoned.

"Yeah...he had some insane plan to 'purify' all the bloodlines," Sirius said with a snort, and Harry was thankful that he wouldn't have to explain the details of it all. Casting his gaze to the floor, Harry spoke the next part softly, knowing that the reaction to it would not be pleasant.

"She never told, but...mum was kidnapped too," he said, and he could nearly hear Sirius' breath stopping in his throat.

"What? No...surely we would have known, she would have said something..." Sirius stammered, the whites of his eyes glistening as a dozen wild thoughts flew through his mind. Lily? Kidnapped? Surely not...she would have undoubtedly told James, and he would have told the rest of them...

"It's true...I saw it through a trinket that used to belong to her, and also in a penseive..." Harry continued, raising his own pain-filled gaze to meet Sirius' confused one. Sirius stared into his eyes for a moment, the wheels in his head almost visibly turning. Then something clicked, and the blood seemed to drain from his face in an instant.

"...don't tell me she was...that they..." he struggled to ask, and paled further when Harry nodded slowly. Of course...that explained why he hadn't heard about it. Lily had probably been too ashamed, she'd always been so strong... "Oh God...Lily..." he gasped, his own eyes shining with pain of her memory. His gaze slid back into focus as he remembered something else that Harry had said, "Wait...did you say through a penseive?" he asked, pain bleeding into confusion.

"Professor Snape's, he was there," Harry answered shortly, his eyes fixed on the floor, and his expression faintly tensed, as if in preparation for something. That something came not a second after the question had been answered.

"That bastard was THERE! And he didn't DO anything!" Sirius roared, his eyes flashing as he stood straight, his hands fisting at his sides and teeth clenched tightly. Harry winced and looked up at him, his expression wounded and pained.

"Sirius, please...he did what he could. The other Death Eaters might've tortured and killed her if he hadn't...if he..." Harry pleaded, and the desperation in his tone was enough to dampen some of his godfather's anger. Sirius began pacing slightly before he answered, his eyes still smoldering as he gazed into his own thoughts.

"Yeah, right lot of good he did...bastard couldn't even keep her from getting violated..." he muttered darkly, a dog-like growl rising in his throat. His pacing slowed after a moment, and he turned slowly to face his godson, his eyebrows furrowed as he voiced his next question. "What did he do?" he asked darkly. As far as he knew, whatever Snape had done to 'help' had probably only made the situation worse. Harry still wouldn't look up at him when he replied.

"He was given first choice among the captured women, and...he chose mum." Harry said softly, his eyes closing for a brief second as his head drooped, his hair sliding forward to obscure his face. When he looked up again, the expression his godfather wore more resembled that of a rabid beast than that of a man. His lips were pulled back from his teeth in a snarl, wild eyes shadowed beneath a furrowed brow...he reminded Harry very much of the first time he had ever seen him.

"...I'll kill him...I'll murder that son-of-a..." Sirius began, his voice rising from a low rumble. Slowly, he began to walk stiffly toward the door, his face flushed with anger.

"Sirius, don't..." Harry pleaded, stepped forward to stand beside the exit. His eyes were wide and pleading, nearly terrified. Some of his anger left him as Sirius gaped at Harry in shock. How could he take it all so well? That bastard had done the unthinkable, and here Harry was, acting as if he almost wanted to _protect_ him.

"Harry, he _raped_ your mother!" Sirius explained, struggling to bring a bit of sense to the slightly trembling boy before him.

"I know that!" Harry snapped, bright pain flashing within his eyes. For a brief moment the fear and desperation in his eyes had disappeared, but it returned as recognition slowly drained the blood from Sirius' face once again. At first, the idea had seemed too absurd to pay any mind to, but now it all slid into place. The way Harry looked, the shame and guilt he'd seen in his expression, the reluctance to admit it all...

"Oh God no...don't tell me he's your..." Sirius gasped, taking a step backward. He gaped at Harry once again as he slowly lifted his eyes, the truth plainly visible within them.

"Yes...Severus Snape is my father." Harry said quietly, his gaze steady and open, struggling to dispel the building panic and disbelief in his godfather's eyes.

--------end 28-------


	29. Breaking Ground

Notes:: Okay, so I said I wasn't ignoring Harry's reaction to Sev being hurt….well….I changed my mind. I couldn't figure out how to make it work right, and well, he really wasn't hurt that bad, so….::shrug:: Don't worry though, there WILL be a nice little sev and harry hospital scene in the near future (not this chapt), as undoubtedly Voldemort will summon him again sometime soon. ::grin:: But don't worry, I think you'll like this chapter anyway. It's unusual at the very least.

Sorry I took so long, and now at last….FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!!!

A Father's Sin

By Severitus

Chapter 29---Breaking Ground

            "Stop!" the voice rang after him down the hall, but Sirius ignored it. He was too angry to pay it any mind, to let the desperation in his godson's voice distract him from his goal. There was no question in his mind that Snape had done something to Harry, altered his mind somehow to make him believe that he was his..._father_. Sirius wasn't about to stand for it. If Snape wouldn't confess to doing it, well, he had every mind to _make_ him. As he flew wildly around a corner, dimly aware of the footsteps pounding after him, a low growl began to rise in his throat. Snape had probably been planning it for years...sitting down in his dungeons and plotting a way to seek his final revenge upon James. After all, what better way to get revenge on him, than to steal away that which was most precious, and wipe out his living memory? The bastard would pay....

            The final stairway down into the dungeons Sirius nearly took in two giant leaps, ignoring the slight pain in his paws upon each impact with the ground. His claws rattled wildly against the stone as he barreled down the dark passage, his eyes focused on the Potions classroom door. There was light shining from beneath it....the Potions Master himself was present. Increasing his speed, Sirius tensed his muscles and headed straight toward the door, his head lowered with determination. He sailed closer, the walls flashing by as he neared the door, and once he was just far enough away; he leapt, hind paws thrusting against the cold stone and his forepaws stretching up through the air.

            The door slammed into the ground with a resounding crash, echoing through the dungeon hallways even as a low growl rose to accompany it. Dust and splinters were still settling to the floor in the room when a dark figure suddenly stood up from the chair behind his desk, his expression twisted in shock and fury.

            "What the hell....?!" he yelled, but stopped and fell silent when he sighted the large black dog standing atop the fallen door, looking very much like the Grim he'd once been rumored to be. "Black?!" he added, confusion joining the other emotions contorting his features. The rumbling growl grew louder, and the dog sprang away from the door, crossing the room in long, determined leaps. With a muttered curse Severus snatched his wand from it's place at his belt, but he hadn't the time to raise it. The dog plowed into his chest, sending them both crashing to the ground and sliding roughly across the age-worn floor.

            For the briefest of moments Severus lay stunned, blinking at the sharp pain flaring in the back of his skull, and the renewed ache coursing through each of his muscles. But it lasted only a moment, and he was soon glaring at the pair of fang-filled jaws hovering inches from his face, teeth glistening dangerously in the dim light. Severus snarled right back, and gave his body a sudden twist, struggling to throw the massive canine off his chest. He partially succeeded, sending the dog off-balance enough for a second shove to send the beast sprawling to the floor. Severus didn't waste a moment in diving to the side, quickly claiming his fallen wand. When he rose to his feet, wand held tightly in a white-knuckled fist, Black was just rising from the ground, having shed his canine form.

            "You're early, Black." Severus growled darkly, his eyes narrowed in no small amount of loathing at the scraggly man returning his glare.

            "What the hell did you do to him?!" Sirius roared, his own wand now held in a shaking grasp. Severus couldn't resist smiling smugly at that.

            "Having trouble with the truth, are you?" he said smoothly, lips still curled slightly. The scowl on Sirius' face deepened further, his cheek muscles twitching as he clenched his teeth. He took in a slow, hissing breath and took a step forward, wand still held at his side.

            "I don't know what you get out of..._feeding_ him these lies, but I'm not--" he began in a low, threatening voice, but Severus cut him off.

            "Get out of my office," Severus said slowly, the light barely reflecting within his now cold, black eyes. Sirius looked vaguely startled, but he made no move toward the door, instead taking yet another step towards his enemy.

            "Not until you agree to undo whatever...whatever _curse_ you've got him under," he growled, and Severus' cold glare transformed into one of annoyance.

            "The only spell you'll find on him is one put there by Dumbledore himself. I have neither lied nor cast any '_curses_' on him." he barked, resisting the powerful urge to raise his wand and attack. Sirius looked like his was waging a similar war with his self control.

            "Liar. Is this some scheme of yours to get back at James? Rape his wife, steal his son...." Sirius began, mistaking the slight twitch in Severus' expression as proof that the accusation was true.

            "_MY_ son, Black," Severus purred dangerously, his piercing black gaze locked on Sirius' own wild eyes. The words were, as the saying goes, the straw that broke the camel's back. With an angry snarl, Sirius raised his wand, with Severus not wasting a second to match the motion.

            "Sirius! Stop!" a voice rang from the doorway, and out of the corner of his eye Severus spotted Harry, frozen just inside the door of the classroom and struggling to catch his breath.

            "Stay out of this, Harry..." Sirius warned, his wand frozen in motion though his eyes hadn't once left its target.

            "Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, suddenly brandishing his own wand. Immediately both Sirius' and Severus' wands flew from their grasps, flying through the air to land in Harry's outstretched hand. Clutching them tightly, he took a step or two back toward the door, as if afraid that they'd try to retrieve them by force.

            "Harry, please give me back my wand...." Sirius said sternly, finally turned away from Severus. Severus, on the other hand, couldn't help but smile lightly, even if he had lost the chance to give Black a good cursing. 

            "No. I'm keeping these until you both calm down," Harry said firmly, clutching them tighter as if to emphasize that fact. Sirius turned to face him fully, one hand placed on his hip in slight annoyance. He was about to ask a second time when he caught a second glance of Severus, and the small, almost proud smile crossing his face. It was then that he realized that Severus had not asked for his own wand back; in fact, he didn't really seem put out about it at all. _What's going on with him? _He wondered, narrowing his eyes at the man. The Snape he remembered would have been screaming his head off, demanding his wand to be returned at once.  For a moment, the classroom was silent. Sirius stared at Severus, Severus stared at Harry, and Harry stared at them both, his expression firm and determined.

            "Sirius!" a new voice suddenly called, and the all turned to the door as Remus Lupin burst through the entrance, his eyes wide and slightly panicked.

            "Remus?" Sirius asked in surprise, watching as his friend glanced from one person to the other, struggling to catch his breath.

            "Dumbledore told me you were here..." he panted, throwing a quick look at Harry, who returned it with a solemn, pained gaze. Clearly things hadn't been progressing well.

            "Moony, surely you don't believe that Harry is...is _his_ son...." Sirius burst out suddenly, thrusting an accusing finger at Severus. The victim of said finger only raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, leveling an annoyed gaze at the man.

            "It's true, Padfoot...I helped with the spells myself," Remus said, his face filled with concern as Sirius' eyes widened with disbelief. Sirius was gaping at him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. Surely Remus didn't actually believe it, he'd always been the most level-headed one, Sirius thought, the most 'sensible' of the marauders. He wasn't one to be taken in by half-truths and lies, unless...no, it couldn't really be true, could it?

            Sirius felt his muscles go suddenly limp, his arms hanging limply at his sides. "It's true?" he asked, his eyes wide and staring at Remus. His voice was weak, barely above a whisper. Surprisingly, it was Severus that answered.

            "Harry _is_ my son, Black." he said, though his own voice was softer than normal as well. The glare had disappeared from his face as well, now replaced by a stern expression. Sirius raised his gaze to watch him for a moment, then turned his still wide eyes back to Harry and Remus, who were watching the exchange with tense expressions. It all clicked in Sirius' mind with those last words, feeling very much like a blast of cold water. He sagged limply against a nearby desk, his eyes sliding out of focus. Remus was at his side in an instant, rushing forward to keep him from falling to the floor. Harry crossed the room after him, still clutching the wands tightly in one hand.

            "Are you okay?" Harry asked Severus as he stopped in front of him, though his eyes lingered on Sirius for a moment. Severus nodded slowly, moving to lean back against a desk as well.

            "I am fine, merely reminded of my last visit to the Dark Lord." he replied, grimacing slightly at the slight pain that had returned to his muscles. When he looked up to meet Harry's gaze, the boy didn't look the least bit convinced. He gave him a slight smile and rested his hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eye, "I'm fine, trust me." he assured him, and Harry finally nodded. After a moment he gave a small smile in return and turned away, heading over to stand by Remus.

            Sirius was still leaning against the desk, his gaze focused on the floor. Remus looked up when Harry approached, casting him a sympathetic look. "Sirius...." Harry began, though he wasn't exactly sure what to say. Sirius blinked, but he didn't look up immediately. He blinked a second time, and his eyes seemed to slide into focus, their color slowly brightening. When he looked up, his face was mostly blank, save for the unmistakable hint of pain swirling in his eyes. He gave an attempt at a small smile at the look of concern in his godson's eyes, which were still as brilliantly green as always. "Are you...gonna be okay?" Harry asked then, and Sirius gave a small nod, much in the same manner as Severus had not a moment before.

            "I'll be okay, I just need to...think for a bit," he replied, and Harry nodded, reaching up to brush back some of the hair that had fallen into his face at the movement. "I...I think I'll go for a walk." Sirius said, finally finding the strength to stand up from the desk. Harry and Remus took a step back and watched him walk slowly toward the door, his head bowed slightly. Silently, Severus walked forward to stand beside them, his own unreadable gaze fixed on the open doorway. Some of the pain had returned to Harry's eyes once again, and Remus raised a hand and gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. 

            "Don't worry, he'll come around. He just needs a little time to...adjust," Remus assured, and Harry nodded haltingly.

            "Thanks, Remus," he muttered, though his gaze was still cast downward.

            "I'll see you two later, I want to make sure he doesn't get himself into any trouble." Remus said, and took off quickly out the doorway, probably hoping that Sirius had remembered to transform at some point. Harry sighed as he stared at the open doorway, and then blinked as he remembered something.

            "Sorry about that...." he said guiltily, holding the two sanctioned wands out to the man at his side. His father only smiled briefly and plucked the long, holly wand from his hand, slipping it securely back into his belt.

            "No need to apologize, though I do believe that is the second time you've cast that spell on me...." he said, and Harry pushed back his hair nervously, well remembering the first time.

            "Yeah...I remember," Harry said, pocketing his own wand and Sirius', his gaze returning briefly to the doorway. "If it hadn't been for me that night, Sirius would have had his name cleared by now...." he continued, his eyes now turned to the floor. If he hadn't been so intent on doing the 'right' thing, Sirius would be free, and the Dark Lord would still be powerless....

            "You don't know that, Harry." Severus said, and Harry fixed him with a curious glance, "That idiot Fudge would have found some way to keep him in prison. Don't waste your time worrying about what could have been." Severus continued, and Harry gave a reluctant nod.

            "I'll try," Harry replied, though his gaze remained firmly on the floor. Severus sighed and watched him for a moment, black eyes shining brightly with concern. As much as he hated to admit it, Black was a part of Harry's life. If he couldn't accept the truth about his godson, he wasn't sure if the boy could handle it. Harry hid it well, but Severus could tell that he'd just about reached his limit, Sirius' rejection would probably prove too much for him. Severus sighed and wrapped one arm around his son's shoulders, surprising himself at how easily the motion came.

            "It'll be fine, Harry. Black will pull himself together," he said, and Harry smiled at him appreciatively.

            "I hope so." he muttered, and Severus noticed that he didn't seem too optimistic. With a heavy sigh and an inward groan, he reluctantly decided to do something that he hoped would lighten Harry's mood.

            "I will try and talk to him if you want me to." he said, successfully keeping the distaste from bleeding into his voice. His statement had the desired effect. Harry snapped his head up in an instant, his eyes wide with surprise.

            "You would?!" he asked, his mouth curving into a wide, grateful smile. Severus couldn't help but smile in return.

            "Of course," he replied, and reached up to ruffle his son's hair briefly. Harry laughed and pushed the hair back out of his face, glancing up at him with his eyes shining brightly. Severus laid his arm across Harry's shoulders once again, and was only faintly surprised when the boy leaned against him, still smiling. What did surprise him was the fact that he himself was still smiling as well.

            "You know, I'm not nervous anymore." Harry said suddenly, his soft voice carrying perfectly in the silent room.

            "Neither am I, though I still am getting used to this." Severus admitted. It was still strange, even if it wasn't necessarily as awkward as it had been at first. They hadn't talked a lot since Harry had started classes again, but ever since he'd had that vision....things had been different. It was as if some barrier had been broken, a line crossed over into some new, unexplored area. Strangely, it had been much harder the next day to bear down on his students. They were usually the victims of all his pent up anger and frustration, built up after years of spying and fighting against his own guilt. But now...it was if it was all slowly draining away, the darkness that hovered over his past slowly being lightened by the presence of his son.

            "Me too," Harry replied suddenly, his eyes glazed slightly with thought. Severus watched him with a hint of pride then, his eyes fixed on the head of dark hair laid against his shoulder. Harry had been different since then as well, towards him at least. Before he'd always been blatantly nervous, hardly ever meeting him directly in the eyes. Now, however, he always smiled slightly when he saw him, and seemed infinitely more comfortable around him. Everything seemed much more...natural.

            "Would you care to join me for some tea?" Severus asked suddenly, hoping to keep them both distracted from recent events for a while.

            "Sure, that sounds good." Harry said, and wrapped his arm around his father's waist as they crossed toward the exit. They headed out the door looking very much like any father and son should; and not a soul could have guessed that they'd ever been anything but.

---------End 29----------

Notes:: I know, I know, nobody ended up in the hospital wing. ::shrug:: oh well. I'll torture them all later, so I figured I'd let them off easy…this time. MWAHAHAHA!

Next chapter::: Angst returns to the fic, as Sirius tries to come to terms. Also, the black Lion will finally make an appearance in either the next chapter or in 31. ::pauses:: Did I just say 31? ::looks at page:: Holy Merlin….I've just realized something…this fanfic is over 100 pages longer than anything else I've ever written! AHHHHH!!! O.O   Before this, the longest thing I wrote was an original fic called 'Daemon' that ended up at 76pgs…maybe I'll post that someday, currently being revised though…okay, I'm rambling….TaTa now….AHHHH!!


	30. Coming to Terms part I

Notes: I AM SORRY!! I haven't updated in what... a week? I'm so sorry!Oh well. I'm gonna try and make it up to you all. I'll be updating again tomorrow, this chapter was shaping up to be a long one, so I decided to split it in three. This one is kinda short, but it had to be done.

Disclaimer:: Yeah, it's been what....20-something chapters since I've had one of these? Oh well. The Harry Potterverse belongs to J.K. Rowling, the goddess of the quill. Anything not hers is mine, obviously, because I own the entire planet. Oh, and did I mention that nifty little Harry Potter Snowglobe on my bookshelf? Yup, mine too. Chow!

THANKS TO EVERYBODY THAT REVIEWED!! YOU ALL ARE AWESOME!! Honestly, I would've stopped at chapter one if it wasn't for you all! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 

A Father's Sin

by Severitus

Chapter 30---Coming to Terms, part 1

            "Damnit Remus, you don't have to follow me around." Sirius growled, whirling to face the man who had followed him outside the castle. They were standing off behind a bit of high, crumbling wall, hidden from the view of the few students wandering around the grounds. Not that Sirius really cared at the moment if he was seen or not.

            "I do if I think you're going to do something stupid," Remus replied flatly, his arms crossed across his chest like an angry parent. His eyes, however, were nothing like his expression. They were stern, yet sorrowful at the same time, considerate of the fact that Sirius had every reason to be upset.

            "Well I'm not, so you might as well go back inside and keep the greasy git company." Sirius growled bitterly, his expression dark with anger. His hair was still mussed from his earlier run, and coupled with his expression, made him look very much like someone not entirely sane. Remus' eyes widened at the bitterness in his voice, and he allowed his hands to drop to his sides, his eyes filling with slight hurt.

            "Sirius, don't be like that...Albus asked me to help out. It's not like I took everything on Severus' word." he replied, his eyes softening with concern. Sirius turned away from his look, resting his hands on his hips in frustration. He lowered his head and gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head in continued disbelief.

            "..his _son, Remus. What would James think? Did he even know?" he asked quietly, his voice breaking slightly at the last. Remus let out a heavy sigh before answering, lowering his own head toward the ground as well._

            "No...I don't think he did. Not even Lily knew who Harry's father was." he replied, and Sirius laughed again. Of course. Snape wouldn't have even thought to tell her, would he? No, he'd just done the deed and run off, left her to deal with the consequences on her own. Bastard.

            "The bastard's probably been having a field day with this...laughing at James' memory, probably trying to corrupt Harry...." Sirius growled, one eye twitching slightly at the thought. After all, Harry was in Slytherin now, probably at Snape's request.

            "As far as I know, he's done no such thing. Severus has been trying his best to be a father, and he's been doing an admirable job. Albus even told me that he's gone a bit softer on the students lately, as well." Remus answered somewhat sharply, and Sirius could sense that Remus had crossed his arms again, and had probably regained his stern expression.

            "He always was a good actor...." Sirius replied almost immediately. Not a second later he felt himself being whirled around, Remus' hand roughly latched onto his shoulder. Remus was staring hard at him, disbelief and slight frustration etched into his features. Sirius stared back, a little surprised and annoyed.

            "Sirius! Don't tell me that you didn't notice a difference in the man. You know very well that even if he was just putting on an act, he wouldn't have hesitated to blast you across the room today." Remus snapped, his eyes flashing dangerously. Sirius shrugged the hand off his shoulder, but stayed his ground.

            "Yes. I noticed." he said flatly, though his shoulders were beginning to droop tiredly, his taught, almost wary stance slowly degrading. He lowered his head after a moment, raising his arms to cross loosely over his chest.  "Could you just...leave me alone for a while, Remus?" he asked, his tone softer than it had been, now more tired than anything else. Remus looked reluctant at first, his mouth twisted in thought. Sirius raised his head briefly and looked him in the eye, "Please?" he added, and Remus sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat.

            "All right, but if I haven't seen you in a couple of hours I'm coming after you," Remus said, turning to head back into the castle. Sirius gave a half smile and turned to head in the other direction.

            "Thanks," he said, and Remus gave a smile and a nod of his own, and began the short trek back to the castle doors. 

---------

            The room was large and dark, only the dim light from the open door penetrated the darkness of the chamber. The walls were of crumbling stone, shining wet and damp in the flickering light. A few frayed rugs laid scattered across the floor, but that was the extent of the decoration. After all, _they didn't need anything more than that, they hadn't the power of mind to realize where they were let alone what room they were in. They were mindless shells now, whatever had once upon a time been their consciousnesses now subdued and imprisoned within the recesses or their own minds, if not destroyed altogether. They were puppets, and he was the puppet master. _

            Lord Voldemort stared at them proudly, his crimson eyes casting an eerie glow upon his stark white features. The dozens of sleeping figures on the floor of the room were a grand sight, proof that his foresight fifteen years ago would come to fruition. Yes....his Serpent's Children would serve him well. No matter that Dumbledore was hiding Potter somewhere...the boy would stray from his cage soon enough, and the Serpent's Children would strike. Even without their full power they were a force to be reckoned with...they knew the unforgivables after all, and they didn't care about death. 

            "Master...." a low, quivering voice called softly from behind. The Dark Lord turned and stepped back from the doorway, crimson eyes zeroing in on the cowering figure of Wormtail.

            "What?" he snapped, resisting the urge to kick the crouched figure before he'd brought his news.

            "The search of Durmstrang has been completed, my Master," he said, obviously struggling to keep his voice at least a moderately calm. 

            "And?" Voldemort asked impatiently.

            "It wasn't there," Wormtail replied, and then immediately sunk further to the ground, his forehead pressed to the cold stone floor.

            "You searched everywhere," he said flatly, eyes narrowing to blood-red slits, nostrils flaring in slight anger. Wormtail scrunched even closer to the floor, trembling like his rodent counterpart. 

            "Yes, my Lord. We used several finding spells as well, but found no trace of it," he managed, his breath coming in quick bursts against the stone floor. Voldemort growled, lifting one booted foot and bracing it against Wormtail's shaking shoulder, then giving it a powerful kick. Wormtail yelped in surprise, tumbling backward across the floor. Immediately he scrambled onto all fours once again, careful to keep his gaze reverently on the floor.

            "Then what do you suppose you should do?" Voldemort hissed in a low, dangerous voice. Very slowly, he slipped his beechwood wand from his belt, holding it delicately in one spidery hand.

            "K-keep looking?" Wormtail stuttered, his shoulders scrunched together as if attempting to make himself shrink out of sight.

            "Precisely." the Dark Lord hissed, stepping closer to his cowering servant. "I MUST have that book, Wormtail. My plans for the wizarding world depend upon it," he continued, stopping a mere foot away from Wormtail's crouched form.

            "Y-yes master...." he replied, his eyes wide and panicked.

            "I am not pleased with you, you realize." Voldemort added, tapping one finger absently against his jaw

            "I am s-sorry, Master...." his servant continued vainly, knowing full well that apologies did absolutely no good whatsoever.

            "Stand up." the Dark Lord commanded, and Wormtail rose shakily to his feet, keeping his gaze focused firmly on the floor. "Look at me, and take your punishment," he continued, and Wormtail raised his watery gaze to look upon his master's face. "Crucio." his master hissed, and Wormtail was on the floor once again, screaming weakly and clawing and the unyeilding stone floor.

----end 30----

 Notes:: Yeah, I know I said there'd be angst, but that's the next part, I promise. Almost the entire thing'll be dedicated to Sirius' thoughts on it all, but i'm going to try and work in a bit of Severus and Harry since they were absent this chapter. ::shrug:: Also, I figured out when to put the black lion in! He'll make an appearance in 32! And from there I'm going to start focusing back on the prophecy/serpent's children again. I will try my very hardest to get 31 out tomorrow!


	31. Coming to Terms part II

Notes: thanks to the mysterious **A Snape Fan** and **Lyansidde** for cheering me up sniff thanks guys!

A Father's Sin

By Severitus

Chapter 31---Coming to Terms, part 2

The evening air was cool as it swept across the surface of the lake, rolling up over the sandy shore and through the tall grass beyond. Sirius shivered slightly at the growing chill, his eyes focused on the rippling water and his head rested on his paws. There was a gorgeous sunset taking place just beyond the shadowed trees, but Sirius saw none of it. Now was not the time to be pondering sunsets and moon shine.

_'I've failed...' _Sirius thought darkly, his eyes wide and unblinking as he stared through the waving grass. _'I don't know how exactly, but I feel like I've failed you, James...' _his thoughts continued, and Sirius allowed his eyes to fall shut, blocking out the peaceful surroundings. He couldn't believe any of it, couldn't accept any of it, even after hearing it from his best friend. Harry Potter, his godson, was the son of his enemy. It couldn't be, no...not Harry. He was too full of life, too honest and caring to possibly be the son of that Death Eater. And yet...Dumbledore believed it too.

Damnit...all those years spent just waiting, treasuring the thought that a part of James and Lily still existed in the world, still breathed and played and...lived. The thought that Harry had survived had done a lot to ease the pain of James' and Lily's deaths, helped it all to be bearable. And now that that was gone...it all came rushing back. Truly nothing of James remained now, nothing beyond his memory and a boy that he had loved like a son. Sirius snorted at the thought. _'Like a son...hell, it probably wouldn't have made any difference to you if you _had_ known he wasn't your son, James...you would have loved him just the same...so why do I care so much?' _Sirius thought, gritting his teeth in thought. _'I know why...because it's Snape, an enemy, a snake I've always thought would go crawling back to Voldemort one day.'_ he thought, baring his teeth slightly. He'd never quite believed that Snape was truly against Voldemort, even after Dumbledore had forced a truce between the two of them. He'd always just been waiting to hear that he'd gone back to the dark side...expected it, really. But now...

Sirius sighed and buried his head deeper into his paws. Now, he didn't know what to think. He _did_ know that Remus had been correct...Snape _had_ changed, in at least some small way. The old Snape would have blasted him out the door not a second after he'd come barging in, but this one had simply...waited. True, he'd still be as snarky and vindictive as ever, wielding a tongue as sharp as his temper, but he hadn't attacked. And he hadn't yelled at Harry for taking his wand, hadn't even glared at the boy he'd hated with a passion not so long ago. Instead, he'd simply stood there, something akin to pride almost curving his mouth into a smile. And he'd had a right to be proud too, Harry had managed to stop the fight before it had truly begun, and stalled long enough for Remus to arrive. And he hadn't taken sides either...he'd stood by Remus while the four of them talked, while nearly any other person would have rushed to the side of either father or godfather after a fight had been averted. _'Damn, I'm proud of him too...' _Sirius realized, his canine lips curling into a pseudo-smile. James and Lily would have been proud of the boy too...

_'God...Lily...' _he thought, clenching his eyes tightly shut once again. He knew he could learn to deal with Harry not being James', but what had happened to Lily...that was a fresh pain that he didn't know how to handle. Whenever he thought of her he remembered her bright, happy smile, her hand wrapped tightly around James' as they talked and laughed with each other. She'd always seemed so strong, so lively and bright and...untouchable by anything dark or wretched. And yet she had been...she'd been torn from the safety of her own home, dragged down into the snake's pit like some rodent intended for a meal. And then she'd been _raped_ by that man that she'd, in Sirius' eyes, foolishly called her friend. She'd been forced to give herself to him, to let him do what only James had a right to. He imagined that she'd been screaming, battling and lashing out...she wouldn't have been taken willingly, no...not Lily. But simply the thought of her having to endure that, of Snape raping her like that...it was too much. And then when she'd found out that she was pregnant, what had it been like for her then? Had she been happy, despite the child's parentage? Or had she been horrified, disgusted that she'd have to spend 9 months carrying a child tainted by Voldemort's evil? Sirius shook his head violently, chasing the horrid thoughts from his mind. He would not allow himself to think of Harry like that. Lily wouldn't have been disgusted...her love for her child had been obvious, she'd never been happier in her life than when she held Harry in her arms. But she _had_ been ashamed by what had happened to her, even if she wasn't ashamed of her son. She had done everything in her power to hide the incident from existence...right down to disguising her child and lying to her husband. And she'd nearly succeeded.

But then James, Lily, and Snape weren't at the root at what was bothering Sirius, no matter how much anguish or hate the thought of each evoked. He couldn't change what had happened to Lily, or tell James the truth about his son, or keep Snape from having followed the Dark Lord's orders. No...they weren't what made his chest constrict and his muscles tighten in near panic, his eyes grow moist but never release their tears. Harry was the root of it all...the one person who's very existence had helped him to keep his sanity from within Azkaban's dark walls. That boy had been so desperate to be loved, so eager to be accepted by someone who actually wanted him and cared about him. He'd completely changed his attitude about a convicted murderer in the span or a few short hours...from seething hatred to caring. It had deeply moved Sirius, to see his godson so obviously deprived of love look up to him so desperately...right then and there whatever part of Sirius that had been focused elsewhere became dedicated to that boy. The Dark Lord would fall again, he'd get his name cleared with the Ministry, and Harry would finally get the home he deserved. But now...everything had changed. Harry had a father now, a _real_ father, not a godfather running from the law, unable to do anything more than send a letter every now and then or risk losing even that privilege. What Sirius feared more than anything was that he no longer had a place in Harry's life. Snape, after all, wouldn't be eager to allow it, even if Harry still wanted a godfather. Sirius wanted desperately to be there for him, to still receive those letters nervously describing the dreams about Voldemort, complaining about Malfoy's pranks, or so vehemently begging him to stay out of harm's way. Sirius had kept nearly every one of those letters...they helped him find the strength he needed to go on, when he thought he couldn't take running one more mile or hiding down one more alley. That boy was a savior, in more ways than one.

Slowly, Sirius rose from the ground, raising his head to look at the now star-speckled sky. He had to find out, he realized. He needed to know if he still had a place, or if he'd be nothing more than a bother, a nuisance that attached his name to a christmas present every now and then. And there was only one way he was going to find that out, and that was by talking to Harry again, and Snape as well. It would probably be best to talk to Snape first, he realized, as that conversation would probably be the most...unpleasant of the two. Pausing briefly to shake the loose grass from his fur, Sirius cast one last glance over the lightly rippling lake, soon to be roiling violently in the growing wind, and began the slow trek back to the castle.

-------------------the end...just kidding! I told ya I'd make this longer!;)-----

Severus Snape admitted to being in a rather odd mood as he strolled down the halls, his expression more of a thoughtful one that what usually crossed his face in public. Tea with Harry and later on, Remus, had ended about half and hour before, as Harry thought he'd better get back to the common room so he'd still have time to work on his homework. Severus suspected that it wasn't 'homework' that he was off to, as he'd seemed a bit too enthusiastic about it, but he couldn't be sure. Remus had seemed to know something, but he'd been tight-lipped on the subject, and had left for his own room not long after Harry. He was now intensely curious, as Harry did seem to have an odd habit of disappearing off to somewhere with Granger and Weasley...but he decided that he'd save the questioning on that particular topic for another day, it was the least of his current worries.

Severus rounded a corner into the empty main hallway, his boots making no sound on the smooth stone. He had no destination in mind, though his aimless wandering did indeed have a purpose. He'd promised Harry that he'd talk to Black, and that was precisely what he intended to do, if he ever managed to find the ruddy dog. While it was true he could have waited around 'til the next day, he quite honestly wanted to get it over with. The sooner he 'talked' to Black, the less time he'd have to conveniently forget that he'd promised Harry he wouldn't murder his godfather. Damn that boy sometimes...that was a promise that even Dumbledore would have had a hard time dragging out of him. And why wasn't he angry about it? He wondered, why wasn't he infuriated that he'd made that promise? He was put off about it, certainly, but regarding Sirius Black, that reaction was about as in-character as a pink feather boa. In every right he should have been ranting and raving, grumbling about how he should have asked Harry if booting the man out the third floor window would make him feel better, rather than him 'talking' to him...but he hadn't. He'd ruddy _offered_ to talk to Black, and all because he'd hated seeing Harry distressed...Damnit, it was getting harder and harder to stay a cold hearted bastard, especially where his son was concerned.

The creak of a door just behind him caused Severus to abruptly stop and whirl on his heels, gaze instantly sharpened with suspicion. One of the doors to the outside had just swung open, and as he watched, the shadowy figure of a dog sauntered in, pausing to turn and close the door by rising on his hind legs and pushing it shut with his forepaws. Sighing, Severus started in the dog's direction...prepared to face the inevitable. The dog froze momentarily when it saw him, but then it began it's own wary approach, though it's eyes were focused with steadfast determination. Black obviously had some goal in mind as well.

"I believe we need to talk," Severus said quietly, and the dog nodded, his dark eyes focused. "My office should suffice...unless you have argument to that?" he asked, and the dog gave an awkward shake of his head, before turning and trotting off in the direction of the dungeons. He paused a short way down the hall, turning his head back over his shoulder. _'Ruddy dog...' _Severus thought darkly, and swept onward down the hall.

The dog was standing obediently by the door when Severus finally caught up to the four-footed beast, it was watching him with slightly narrowed eyes, as if annoyed about the brief wait. Severus only sneered briefly and dispelled the charms on the door, and then motioned the dog inside with a dramatic wave of his arms. It was difficult to resist slamming the door on his tail. Instead, Severus merely followed him in and locked the door behind them, before crossing to stand in front of his desk. Black was already leaning against the far wall, watching him with narrowed eyes.

"I suppose you've had sufficient time to think then, Black," Severus purred, and Sirius stood away from the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I've had some time to think, but there is still a lot I need to understand," Sirius admitted, and Severus gave a slight nod. Even he would admit that it would be asking a bit much for Black to accept it all after a mere few hours of contemplation. "However, there's one thing I want to get out of the way before we 'talk'... " he added, and uncrossed his arms, taking a few steps so that he stood immediately before the Potions Master.

"And what would that be?" Severus asked, casting him a wary glare and crossing his arms tightly over his chest. Sirius didn't reply, but rather took one last step forward and threw a fist forward in a lightning-fast punch. The blow connected with a loud 'crack,' sending Severus staggering back into his desk. An angry snarl answered it as Severus straightened once again, one hand pressed to his aching jaw. Sirius, however, had stepped back once again, and had his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

"That was for Lily," Sirius said, his eyes hard and cold. Severus continued to glare, but allowed the angry twist of his mouth to transform into a frown.

"Why, thank you _so_ much, for turning the pain of that subject into a physical one," Severus growled, but did nothing more.

"If it were up to me, I would do so much more than that. However, my guess would be that you hate me just as much as I do you...and if you're willing to talk, then I suppose I can set aside my feelings for a while as well." Sirius said, before moving forward and dropping heavily into one of the chairs facing the desk, crossing one leg haphazardly over the other.

"That's nice to know," Severus replied dryly, and after a moment's consideration, sat smoothly down in the other chair and sat straight-backed, crossing his legs in a similar, yet neater manner. "So, do you believe what we've all told you now?" he asked, laying his arms across the arms of the chair. Sirius closed his eyes briefly and nodded, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Yes...I believe you." he replied, pain briefly flashing behind his eyes.

"Good...that will certainly make things easier." Severus replied, and Sirius cast him a questioning look, no doubt wondering what 'things' he was referring to. "Let me pose a question..." Severus began, and continued after Sirius' reluctant nod. "What do you think of Harry now?" he asked, and Sirius' eyes instantly widened. He'd expected maybe a question about what he intended to do, but never what he 'thought.'

"I'm...not sure what you're asking..." Sirius settled on replying, and was rewarded with a glare and an impatient roll of Severus' eyes.

"If I didn't already know that you're an idiot I would be doubting your mentality," Severus replied, and leveled him with a stare that was full of intensity, yet wasn't quite a glare. "What I want to know is this; has the way you feel about him changed? You do realize that he is connected to Voldemort..." Severus began, and the stare intensified.

"What do you mean 'connected?'" Sirius asked, leaning abruptly forward in his seat. He knew Harry was connected to the Dark Lord through his scar, but Snape was evidently referring to something else. In light of his curiosity, Sirius chose to ignore the other question for the moment.

"He didn't tell you," Severus stated, not entirely surprised. Black probably had stormed out before Harry had been able to finish explaining everything. "Harry is a Serpent's Child, through his power and his mind he is connected to the Dark Lord. Surely you realized the possibility," he continued, his voice raised with incredulity. Sirius merely blinked at first, his eyes slowly widening and his lips parting in realization. He had considered the idea, but had dismissed it almost immediately. No one had made any mention of it, and he hadn't seen the Serpent's Mark anywhere on Harry's face. Of course, he'd been too panicked at the time to wait around for Harry to continue his explanation, or to consider the fact that the Mark could very well have been hidden...

"I did, but...it was not mentioned, and I did not see the Mark...I just assumed that he wasn't." he stammered, his eyes drifting out of focus as his thoughts pulled inward. The implications of that were...immense. "The Mark was hidden?" he asked at last, raising his eyes from a spot on the floor.

"Yes, by Glamourie," Severus answered, watching only in mild interest as Black retreated into his own thoughts once again.

"But...what of their rising? What has been done to...keep him safe?" Sirius asked, though his thoughts were asking a different question. If Harry was a Serpent's Child...why hadn't he been summoned along with the others? And if he had, how had he resisted it? How had he maintained his own mind? Severus looked pained when he answered, though his voice was just as firm and cold as it always was when talking to a person he viewed in poor light. His gaze, however, was conspicuously averted, as if he feared that something would be seen within his eyes that he'd rather not be shared with his present company.

"Harry cannot leave the school grounds," he stated at first, "The wards here protect him from Voldemort's call, though Albus believes that it is only a temporary solution. The closer the Dark Lord gets to the school, the less the wards will be able to filter out his power...and the harder it will be for Harry to fight against." he continued, and the pained look intensified briefly, "Albus summoned you and several others in order to help strengthen the wards, until a more permanent solution can be found," he finished, though he kept his gaze averted, even as his face regained it's usual mask of indifference.

"He never gets a break, does he?" Sirius said after a long pause, his gaze also focused elsewhere. There was no question about precisely _who_ he was talking about, and the thoughtful expressions on both men's faces assured that they had been thinking of roughly the same thing. Severus was the first to break the subsequent silence.

"It seems not, which brings me back to my question..." he said, and raised his eyes once again, locking his gaze firmly onto Sirius', "Do you feel the same about him as before?" he asked once again, and after a short pause, Sirius nodded.

"Yes, he is still my godson, as long as he has need of me," he answered, struggling to keep his voice firm throughout the statement. Even if he was willing to call truce with Snape, he wasn't about to let him know just how much Harry still meant to him.

"Good," Severus replied firmly, and didn't look as if he was going to elaborate.

"Why do you ask?" Sirius asked, unable to deny his curiosity. One again Snape seemed reluctant to answer at first, but he spoke after a moment, his voice and expression remaining locked in cold neutrality.

"I believe that Harry is afraid that you will reject him, seeming as James Potter is not his father. You might want to talk to him about that," he said, giving Sirius a pointed glare at the last.

"I intend to," Sirius answered, struggling hard not to reveal the relief he truly felt. Harry wasn't going to forget about him! He thought, inwardly grinning wider than the day he escaped from Azkaban. "Now, I've got a question for you," he said after he'd calmed himself enough to speak again. Snape raised a curious eyebrow, but made no move to interrupt him, "Will you allow me to remain his godfather?" he asked, and Snape's other eyebrow immediately rose alongside the first.

"Yes." he answered, after he'd managed to recover from his initial surprise, "Loathe as I am to admit it, you are a part of his life. I've no intention of telling him who and who not to maintain association with, simply because I am his father. I freely admit that even you, Black, are more suited to the task than me." he said, and this time Sirius couldn't prevent the wide smile from briefly crossing his face. Bedamned if Snape saw it, the git wasn't going to stand in the way after all! He had every reason to smile.

"According to Remus you're not doing a half-bad job," Sirius said teasingly, his mouth still twisted into a half smile. Snape snorted indifferently and rolled his eyes.

"And I imagine Lupin would know, wouldn't he?" Severus retorted, obviously unconvinced, "He has your wand, by the way," he added, and Sirius nodded.

"Thanks..." he replied, and rose slowly from the chair, "I'd...better be off...though I do intend to further this conversation soon," he said, casting Severus a determined glare.

"I've no doubt that I've not heard the last of it," Severus replied with a resigned sigh. Undoubtedly Black was still aching to give him an ear-lashing about Lily and his treatment of Harry over the past few years...certainly not a conversation to be looked forward to on either account. Severus watched tiredly as Black slipped out the door, that ridiculous smile still plastered on his face. At least Harry wouldn't have to worry any longer, he thought. He'd probably be overjoyed to hear that Black still cared for him. They'd probably be spending time together joking and laughing for however long Black was staying.

"In fact, I have a feeling I'll be seeing a lot more of you than I'd like," he muttered at the door, and rose from the chair before heading toward the potions cabinet. The mere thought of it was giving him a headache already.

---------------End 31-------------------

Notes: I did it! A longer chapter! Woohoo! Next chapter I'll…well, I'm pretty sure the Black Lion will finally be in there, I've still got to figure out exactly how I'm going to do it though….aheh…ah well. And yes, after tea Harry slipped away to go practice the animagus transformation. I'll get back to that again soon too. TaTa!


	32. Coming to Terms part III

**A Father's Sin**

**By Severitus**

Chapter 32---Coming to Terms, part 3

"I don't understand why you're still going through that book. We already know what to do." Ron grumbled as he watched Hermione, her head bent over the book on Animagus training. She looked up briefly and cast him a glare, before marking her place in the tome and closing it gently. They had all gone up to one of the spare rooms in the guest wing after classes had ended for the day, and not a few minutes before had finished their usual practice session. Harry was gradually getting a bit speedier with his transformation, while bit by bit Ron and Hermione progressed with their own.

"We DO know the basic process, but I want to make sure that I haven't missed anything. We did modify the standard procedure a bit, you know." she said, and both Harry and Ron looked at her in surprise.

"We...modified it?" Ron stammered, his eyes wide with fright.

"Of course we did! How else do you think we've progressed so quickly? In case you don't remember, it usually takes about three to four years." Hermione huffed, and Ron's jaw dropped. Harry quirked an eyebrow, he had wondered about that, but had never asked any questions.

"Why didn't you tell us that before we started then! We could...we could get ourselves stuck as animals forever!" Ron stammered, but Hermione simply rolled her eyes.

"Relax, Ron. Under normal circumstances we would have been working on clearing our minds alongside attempting the transformation, instead of working on one and then the other. We're progressing quickly because we can already focus our minds enough to partially transform. Basically we've taken a condensed crash-course,"

"Oh," Ron replied, and slumped back in his chair once again.

"And I also wanted to see if I could find a reason for Harry mastering it so quickly," she admitted as she cracked open the book once again. Harry shifted uneasily in his chair, but said nothing. Before he'd attributed his success at the transformation to James Potter being an animagus, but as that explanation no longer worked...he was clueless. He vaguely wondered if it was some bizarre side effect of being a Serpent's Child, but that didn't seem to make much sense. Hopefully Hermione would come up with something, maybe every black-haired green-eyed wizard got it easy or something. Sighing, he let the thought pass and turned his attention back to the Herbology notes sitting in his lap. The first major test of the semester was coming up soon, and he had every intention of doing well on it.

A sudden knocking at the door brought them all to their feet in an instant. Apprehensively, they all cast a glance at each other before Harry warily approached the door. Only Remus and Dumbledore knew that they were up here, but Remus had said he'd be off visiting Hagrid that afternoon... Harry cracked open the door and gaped in surprise.

"Hello!" greeting the widely grinning figure of his godfather, eyes shining happily as he looked in through the open door. Harry gaped momentarily before regaining his composure, and he stepped aside to open the door completely.

"H-hi, Sirius," he stammered, half-way from surprise and the rest from pure nervousness. Sirius' attitude couldn't have changed more drastically from what it had been the previous evening. Harry had been expecting something much darker, though he admittedly hadn't wanted to dwell on it much. And yet here Sirius was, grinning just as madly as if he'd just pulled some spectacular stunt. Harry began to wonder who the unfortunate victim was...

"So what are you all up to?" Sirius asked as he stepped into the room. Ron coughed suddenly and cast a glance at Hermione, they shared a meaningful look and immediately began packing their things away.

"Oh, just studying," Harry said, and Sirius frowned slightly while raising an eyebrow, but it transformed into a slight smile a moment later.

"Erm...we'll see you guys later...it's nice to see you Mr. Black..." Hermione muttered nervously as she and Ron slipped out the door, obviously having decided that the guest wing might soon become dangerous territory. Harry had told them some of what had happened the previous night, but all in all he hadn't said much, and they'd been understanding enough to not ask too many questions about it. Harry backed away and headed toward the chairs by the darkened fireplace as Sirius closed the door, following him to the chairs a moment later and sitting down across from him. His blue eyes were still sparkling with a smile, though there was now a slight darkness visible within them now that they were alone.

"I talked to Sn-your father last night," Sirius said after a moment of tense silence, and Harry abruptly looked up from the bit of floor he'd been staring at. His eyes were wide with surprise and obvious shock, for after all, Sirius _was_ still alive...The man in question smiled slightly at Harry's expression, his head lowered with a sort of sad resignation.

"So...so you believe me? You're not angry?" Harry asked quietly, his voice colored with an unmistakable shade of hope. Sirius looked surprised at the question, but offered him a slow smile and a shake of his head. He suddenly looked immeasurably tired, as if he hadn't slept at all since his arrival. The lines of his face were etched far more deeply than usual, and heavy shadows were present beneath his shining eyes. His hair was a bit scraggly as well, looking as if it hadn't been combed properly in a while.

"No Harry, I'm not angry. It's not your fault that your father isn't who we all thought he was," Sirius said, his eyes flashing briefly with pain. He'd rehearsed some of what he wanted to say beforehand, determined to put on a brave face for Harry. But now that he was looking his godson in the eye, seeing that familiar personality peering nervously out of a different face, it was much harder than he'd imagined. No matter how hard he tried not to, whenever his thoughts turned to Harry he still thought of him as a miniature version of James, wild hair, round glasses and all. It was a struggle to remind himself that _this_ was the real Harry, _this_ was the boy he'd sworn to protect. Harry shifted uneasily, dropping his gaze down to the floor once again.

"Yeah, but...you and Professor Snape don't exactly get along well, I thought that...that maybe..." Harry stuttered, pausing to bite his lip and spare a wary glance towards his godfather. The man was watching him strangely, as if he was partially lost within his own thoughts. At the last, however, Sirius had leaned forward in his chair, eyes becoming clear and focused and shining with concern for the boy across from him. Harry watched him warily still, his head turned half-way to the side again.

"Harry, I care for you because of _you_, not because whoever your father happens to be. I am still your godfather, and I intend to act like one for however long you need me," Sirius replied, locking his bright blue gaze onto Harry's emerald green. Harry blinked once, his eyes sliding temporarily out of focus and back again as the statement fully registered. Things were going to be okay? Sirius wasn't angry? Harry couldn't have kept the wide smile from his face even if he had wanted to. He'd been so terrified that Sirius would be ashamed of him, angry at him for not being the son of his best friend.

"Thank you...I don't know what I'd do without you." Harry replied softly, his head lowered to hide the wet sheen of his eyes, "You're the first family that ever actually wanted me." he admitted with an odd smile, and Sirius smiled sadly before reaching forward to ruffle his godson's long, dark hair. Harry laughed and looked up to him, eyes shining brightly with amusement and obvious relief.

"Well, now you've got two people that do," Sirius said as he leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, his mouth quirked in a half-smile. While it was true that he truly did loathe Severus Snape, he had to admit that some undeniably good things could or had resulted from him being Harry's father. For one, Harry had another person to look out for him, someone that (he hoped) truly cared for him, and _that_ was something the boy needed desperately. And secondly, who better to protect him from Voldemort than a man who was intensely familiar him? And that wasn't even mentioning the fact that with Snape's twisted mind, anyone foolish enough to try and harm Harry would most certainly have much pain and bloodshed in their (probably limited) future.

"I'm surprised you two didn't kill each other," Harry admitted after a moment of thought, raking his hair back out of his face and tucking it calmly back behind his ears. Sirius snorted and waved one hand dismissively in the air.

"Nah, maybe later," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and a quick flash of pearly teeth. "I still plan on having a good talk with him about some things..." he continued, his expression darkening once again.

"..like...?" Harry prodded, his forehead wrinkled with worry and curiousity. Sirius coughed suddenly and straightened in his chair, his gaze directed towards the wall.

"Oh, you know, Quidditch scores, the weather, the time I gave him kitten ears for a week...that kinda thing," Sirius said with another dismissive wave of his hand. Harry shook his head with a small smile and sighed heavily. Sirius was the master when it came to skirting around an undesirable topic, he wouldn't be getting anything out of him just yet apparently.

"Sure...just try not to attack him, okay? Please?" Harry begged, leaning forward in his chair. Sirius tapped his jaw and scrunched his eyebrows together in feigned thought, his mouth twisted to the side. At long last he sagged slightly and put one hand over his heart, the other held up as if he were swearing an oath.

"I promise I won't attack him." he said finally, his eyes held respectfully shut. Harry eyed him for a moment, struggling to ascertain whether or not he was being honest or putting on more of a show. He _seemed_ to speaking honestly, but with Sirius, it was often hard to tell. With a resigned shake of his head, Harry leaned back in his chair and decided to give the man the benefit of the doubt.

"Good." Harry said, crossing his arms with a firm nod. Then, almost as an afterthought, he quirked an eyebrow and turned his expression into a curious one and asked; "Now what was that about kitten ears?"

------------

As the last rays of evening disappeared over the far horizon, the lion lowered himself quietly into the shadows of the underbrush, his eyes focused sharply through a gap in the shrubbery. His tail flicked idly back and forth behind him, the tuft of fur at the tip flaring like black fire with each rhythmic motion. The lean, taught muscles along his side quivered as a cool breeze tousled his wild mane, but he didn't blink once. Almost imperceptibly his paws began to knead the soft earth, curved white claws slowly sliding in and out to gouge the earth. Suddenly, ebony nostrils flared, and his eyes flicked slightly to the right, watching the narrow pathway just beyond. A human wouldn't have sensed anything from such a distance, but the lion did with ease. He could both hear and smell them, nearly able to feel the earth tremble with their leader's footsteps. And not a moment later, they appeared on the pathway, shoving errant braches and bushes out of their path.

There were only three with the half-giant today, all trembling like nearly every person who chose (or was forced to) enter the Forbidden forest. While it was true they weren't headed deep into the forest by any means, there were still dangers to be wary of, unmentionable things that didn't require the deep shadows of the forest's interior to ignite their bloodlust. The lion watched as the small troupe passed him by, the large boarhound at the game-keeper's heels pausing briefly to stare into the underbrush. It made no sound, and after a brief moment dashed forward once again. The dog was familiar with the lion, just as his master was. They never sought him out or questioned his presence, but merely accepted it, sometimes thankfully. Giving a small snort at the memory of one of those times in which it had been 'thankfully,' the lion rose quietly to his feet and veered off into the brush, trailing the group at a distance.

They paused near a tiny clearing, the children all glancing about nervously, jumping at every innocent shift of shadow. Hagrid spoke to them briefly, setting a small, empty basket on the ground before pointing to some nearby greenery. The lion sat back on his haunches in the shadow of a tree and watched with amusement as the children dashed frantically about, rushing to pick a certain breed of plant as quickly a possible and dumping them (along with a few unfortunate weeds) into the basket. Hagrid stood eyeing the surrounding trees, his trusty crossbow held tightly in one hand. One time the half-giant's eyes fell on the lion, who returned the steady gaze with one of his own. Hagrid smiled at the sight of him, but the lion did nothing, his eyes and ears alert to the dangers of the forest.

The students finished their task before long, and the lion was once again tailing them down the forest path, hidden within the dense shrubbery and shadow that lined that meager pathway. They had grown somewhat more cocky now, risking idle chatter as they headed back toward relative safety. The lion drew back his lips in a silent snarl at this. Foolish. Predators never attacked when their prey was expecting it, it was when they didn't expect it that the attack came. A familiar scent suddenly drifted to his nose, and the lion sped up his space, teeth bared and eyes narrowed as his paws connected silently with the earth.

He saw it a moment later, one of the Forbidden Forest's most common (and stupid) predators. It was a shadow beast, not especially large in general, though its claws and fangs left no question for size. It was creeping along in the underbrush as well, furry lips draw back from yellowed teeth, it's rodent-like face wrinkled in an angry snarl. All in all it really was like an especially large rat, though it's jaws and legs were far out of proportion, and not one, but two scaly tails curled and flicked behind it. It looked as if it were ready to pounce, with it's course-furred thighs quivering, hind-paws shifting and adjusting as it calculated speed and distance, assessing its prey.

Coming to a stop about ten paces behind the shadow beast, the lion lowered its head, and let out a low, rumbling growl in warning. Instantly the shadow beast jerked and whirled around, crimson eyes narrowing on the larger predator that dared to disrupt its hunt. The lion placed one gigantic paw forward, and then another, muscles rippling under midnight fur and tail flicking dangerously. The rat-creature ignored the warnings, and spread it's legs, emitting a long, rattling hiss between its rotting teeth. A second later, and it leapt, the coiled muscles of its hindquarters carrying it high up into the air in an arc toward it's enemy. The lion snorted in annoyance and twisted smoothly to the side, allowing the beast to land harmlessly where he'd stood a moment before. Neither wasted a moment in attacking again, the lion moving forward first this time. Teeth bared, it leapt at the shadow beast with claws fully extended, managing to sever one of the beast's twin tails as it twisted away with a squeal. The lion landed with a heavy thump, whirling with a roar as the rat leap again, its own claws reaching for some bit of tender flesh. Jaws snapping, the lion moved himself forward and up, teeth bared toward the beast as it leapt. In one swift motion, the lion's jaws snapped closed with a loud crack on the beast's neck, and then he twisted his body and flung the squirming rodent to the ground. The body twitched once, then twice in death as the lion stared at it almost boredly, licking the wet crimson from his muzzle with a huge pink tongue.

Daring to step out onto the path, the lion watched as the half-giant lead the last of the students beyond the forest's border, and back into safety. The lion's mouth twitched slightly as it watched them, all completely unaware of the danger they'd just been in. Then, with a great yawn and a flash of pearly fangs, the lion turned and headed back into the safety of the shadows.

----end 32----

Notes: Again, I promise the next one will be out in a few days, Not a few weeks. I am so sorry about that! And I apologize for this being so short! If you want to know when I update, feel free to join my update group thingy…a bunch of people seem to have them, so I thought I'd give it a try to. The link's at the top of the page and in my bio. Thanks for reading!

NEXT CHAPTER:: Malfoy's brother has a task to perform, Draco and Harry have a chat, and…other stuff happens too. ; )


	33. Malfoy, Malfoy, and Malfoy

A Father's Sin

By Severitus

Chapter 33---Malfoy, Malfoy, and Malfoy

Vanus actually thought that France was quite nice. It was a gorgeous day, all and all, with a clear blue sky ringed with light, gray clouds, and a crisp breeze that just ruffled the elegant purple cloak hung about his shoulders. Ah yes...it was quite a view, especially with the curling spires of Beaubaton's School of Magic rising up against the endless green fields in the background. It was a marvel of architecture, rivaling even mighty Hogwarts in height and sheer size. It was also far more artistic, covered in carvings and intricate sculptures over practically ever inch of light gray stone. Vanus sighed as he walked to catch up with his temporary 'companion,' it really was a shame that in a few short weeks, possibly days, the school would no longer exist. Ah well...nothing lasted forever.

"Lagging behind a bit, are you Vanus?" the pretty brown-haired girl asked as he caught up with her on the path leading to the school. She spoke English quite well, though her voice was thickly accented. He thought she was probably doing it on purpose. She wore a simple blue work robe, the Beaubaton's insignia stamped clearly across one shoulder, along with a tiny white stripe that indicated she was a third year. What _was_ her name again...?

"Only to admire to view, love." he replied, allowing his eyes to roam down her tightly robed body. She blushed and edged closer to him on the path, allowing him to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "You're beautiful, you know..." he murmured, tenderly moving a lock of curled hair back from her face, immediately eliciting another blush. Inwardly, Vanus smirked with triumph, this was going to be easier than he thought. Quickly flicking his gaze up and about, he sighted a nearby building that would serve his purposes just fine. It looked like some sort of stable, but most importantly, it was secluded.

"Where are we going?" the girl asked, as they veered off toward the structure. She was fiddling a bit nervously with her robes, but her eyes shown with excitement.

"I want to show you something, if you don't mind..." he purred, and she quickly shook her head, quickening her pace slightly toward the building.

"Oh, I don't mind at all!" she said, smiling brightly and twirling one long strand of her hair. Vanus smiled hungrily in reply, and stepped forward toward the stable door, before opening it with a low bow. She curtsied dramatically before stepping softly inside the stable, her steps quiet on the scattered hay. Pulling one half of the door shut behind him, Vanus stepped into the room and slowly approached the dark corner where the girl stood, pausing a moment to run a hand over his slicked-back brown hair. He cast her a lopsided grin and leant toward her, one hand braced on the wall on either side of her. She lifted her arms up and draped them about his neck, pausing to trace one finger silkily down his cheek.

"When did you get this?" she asked, still admiring the tattoo-like mark. Vanus smiled as he leaned closer, his breath grazing her pinkish cheek.

"A long time ago..." he whispered, his lips just brushing against her ear. She shivered and pulled him closer, "It has a very special meaning..." he continued, flicking out his tongue to trace down her jawline.

"What--what's it mean?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Many things..." he breathed, nuzzling his face into her neck as she wound her fingers roughly through his short hair. "The serpent is a symbol of knowledge," he purred, and very slowly slid her outer robe off of her shoulders, letting it drop softly to the floor once she relinquished her hold on him. Once again he distracted her by nibbling on her ear, and she moaned lowly when his hand drifted lazily down her front. Gently he maneuvered one foot beneath her fallen robe and moved it aside, briefly checking to make sure her wand was still located inside the robe's pocket. It was.

"I thought th-that snakes were evil..." she gasped, and he cut her off by capturing her mouth with his, pressing her roughly against the wall. His left hand slid inside his own robe pocket, tightly grasping the smooth wood that met his hand.

"The serpent can be many things..." he whispered against her lips, "but above all..." he continued, one hand sliding up to her shoulder while the other withdrew from his pocket. "...he is a temptation." he finished, and she gasped sharply as he pushed away from her, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. "Imperio," he hissed with a wicked grin, and the girl fell limply against the wall, her mouth closing on a captured scream.

Sighing heavily, Vanus tucked his wand back into his pocket and crossed his arms, shaking his head disdainfully at the fallen girl. "I was right, that was easy." he muttered, and stepped forward to issue her first orders. Beaubaton's didn't stand a chance.

------------------------------------

Wormtail's shrill scream echoed loudly throughout the dark room, his pale and clammy face contorted with pain and terror. It continued for a good minute, with the silver-handed man twitching from his place on the floor, mouth gaping and eyes impossibly wide once he'd run out of breath to scream with. Two sets of eyes watched in sadistic pleasure as the man contorted and writhed, muscles spasming in a vain, instinctual reaction against the pain. At long lost one set of eyes turned away and removed the spell, almost boredly walking off toward a well-worn chair nearby. After settling regally into the chair, spindly legs crossed and crimson eyes narrowed, the owner of the second set of eyes stepped forward and stood by his side, eyeing Wormtail with obvious distaste.

"Get out of my sight, Wormtail." the Dark Lord hissed, and the still twitching figure began to claw his way toward the doorway, legs and arms far too shaky to support him. Sighing heavily, Voldemort turned to the man at his side.

"I trust you've brought me better news that he did, Lucius." he said darkly, and Lucius cast a wary glance toward his fellow Death Eater, still crawling towards the door.

"That depends on what can be considered good, my Lord." Lucius replied, his head bowed respectfully.

"Severus' story checked out then?" the Dark Lord asked tiredly, propping his jaw upon his fist. His eyes were watching Lucius almost boredly, as if he already knew what the answer would be.

"Yes, it appears that he was telling the truth. However..." Lucius began, his voice dropping off and carrying a bit of unease.

"Get on with it." was the growled reply, accompanied by one bony, white hand waving for him to continue.

"Yes, Lord. I have no proof for it, but...I still think that he's keeping something from us, something about that boy of his." Lucius said thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing slightly with the words.

"I agree with you, Lucius." Voldemort said simply, his own eyes narrowed in similar thought. "What about Draco? What does he think of Severus' son?" he continued, his eyes brightening with sudden interest.

"Draco tells me that he's become friends of a sort with Zachary, but he hasn't discovered anything yet either. Apparently the boy _is_ rather odd though, Draco claims that he hangs around with some of the Gryffindor students." Lucius said, grimacing at the last. Honestly, a Slytherin socializing with Gryffindors...what was Severus thinking!

"Interesting...but not that unusual." Voldemort replied, waving off the information with another idly flick of his wrist. "Gryffindors can be excellent allies when led in the proper direction. Take Wormtail there for example, when not bumbling things up he can be quite useful." he continued, though his gaze darkened with the remnants of anger as he stared at the now empty doorway. Wormtail, it seemed, had finally made his way out the door. But then the gaze suddenly lightened to an amused one, and the Dark Lord let out a short, dry laugh. "Ironic...how a Gryffindor brought me, Slytherin's Heir, back to power..." he murmured softly, his pale lips twisted with an odd sort of triumph.

"What should I do about Zachary Snape, my Lord?" Lucius asked, when it seemed that his master was lost in thought. Instantly the red gaze focused on him once again, and Lucius nearly regretted disturbing him.

"Leave him be for now, he is not of any immediate concern. Getting that book is the utmost priority...I want you to assist Wormtail in finding it. Vanus has already secured our passageway into Beaubaton's, we will begin our next search there." Voldemort hissed, and Lucius puffed up proudly at the mention of Vanus, his own contribution to Voldemort's army.

"If I may, Lord, why are we only searching the schools?" Lucius asked suddenly, having decided that the question wouldn't be too much of a risk to ask. Voldemort sighed in annoyance, but replied nevertheless. When he spoke, the words were rushed with annoyance, and Lucius had to blink to be sure he'd heard it all correctly.

"Before my fall, I entrusted the book to Karkaroff to keep safe within Durmstrang's walls, until fifteen years had passed. Had he been a faithful servant, the book would already be back in my hands...However, Karkaroff apparently sent the book off to somewhere else before his death. Europe's Schools of Magic are simply the most well-protected buildings on the continent, and he would most likely have sent it to one of them. It's a simple process of elimination" Voldemort finished, his expression darkening once again, "Now, off with you. And don't disappoint me." he growled, narrowing his gaze at the blonde man before him.

"I won't, my Lord," Lucius replied with a deep bow, and disappeared to join Wormtail on the hunt.

---------------------------------

"Out playing with the Gryffindors again?" Draco purred, dropping the transfiguration book he'd been reading down into his lap. He was the only one in the common room when Harry entered, and he groaned inwardly at the discovery. For the past few days Draco had been stalking him mercilessly, rattling on about this and that as if they'd been buddies for years. Even a dimwit would have realized that Draco was trying to find out something, trying to get Harry to open up and spill some delicious secret. Harry, however, wasn't fooled for a second. Shaking his head tiredly, he stepped fully into the room and allowed the wall to close up behind him.

"Why, yes. We enjoyed a lovely game of Hide and Seek, and then took a nice little nap curled up with our thumbs in our mouths. You should join us sometime," Harry muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes briefly. Draco shook his head in exasperation and turned to face him in the chair, his pale face glinting in the low firelight.

"It's scary how much you and Professor Snape are alike sometimes...yikes." he muttered, laughing shortly. Harry grimaced slightly and turned away, wrinkling his nose briefly at the thought.

"So I've been told." Harry sighed, pushing a strand of errant hair back behind his ear. His tendency to sound like his father was a trait that many of the Slytherin students had come to enjoy teasing him about. They weren't in the wrong, either, he always had had the tendency to become excessively sarcastic when annoyed, and several of his Slytherin dorm mates could do _that _quite easily. It had left him in a bit of a daze the first time someone had pointed it out, for it should have been an obvious similarity. However, only now that he was pretending to be someone else were traits he had in common with his father were coming to light. And the gift for sarcasm was but one of an ever increasing number of them.

Shaking the thought from his head, Harry turned and headed toward the archway leading to the dorm, fully intent on a getting a good night's rest. The Animagus Transformation he'd just been practicing did require a lot of energy, and at the moment, he was grumpy and completely zapped.

"Hey, wait a minute, will you?" Draco called suddenly before Harry could get past his chair. Harry cast him a slightly annoyed gaze, but stopped nevertheless, stifling a large yawn while he waited. "Sit down or something, you're always running off somewhere." Draco said, waving his book toward the opposite chair. With slumped shoulders Harry complied, flopping rather lazily into the opposite chair. It looked like he wasn't going to be getting sleep very soon after all...

"Is there something you wanted?" he asked, when Draco didn't immediately continue whatever his line of thought happened to be.

"Yeah, I want to talk to you." Draco replied, his voice sharper than normal, and holding a touch of that commanding air he'd obviously inherited from his father. _Great_, Harry thought with a groan, _he's finally had enough of being ignored by me._

"Alright then, talk," Harry snapped in reply, his eyes narrowing slightly. If Draco wanted a confrontation, Harry was going to make sure that he knew he wasn't one to be ordered around.

"I want to know the truth about why you're always hanging out with those Gryffindors," Draco said calmly, crossing his arms over his chest and locking his cool gray gaze with Harry's sharp green one.

"Because they're my friends." Harry replied shortly, giving just as good as he got in the miniature staring contest. Draco seemed slightly startled, breaking the gaze and losing the temporary commanding air he'd tried to employ. _Well, looks like he wasn't expecting that answer,_ Harry thought with some amusement. What had Draco expected him to say? He was friends with Ron and Hermione because his father had told him to be? Knowing Malfoy, that probably _was _what he'd been expecting.

"Yeah, but...why? You're Slytherin, your father's the Head of Slytherin House, and you're pureblood! How can you be friends with-with---them! Doesn't your father even _care_ about that!" Draco looked positively frantic, his pale face flushing slightly crimson with the rush of words. He was gripping the arms of the chair tightly, as if waging an inner battle to understand how such a thing was possible.

"Haven't we had this argument before...?" Harry replied dryly, leaning an elbow upon the chair arm and resting his jaw on his knuckles. Why couldn't Draco just give it up already?

"_My_ father would kill me if he found out I was socializing with _Gryffindors_..." Draco muttered somewhat disdainfully as he looked away, and Harry had to bite back on the sudden surge of anger that rose at his words. Narrowing his eyes, he sat up in the chair and leaned forward, fixing a cold, still glare on the slightly confused blonde.

"Listen carefully Draco...my father may not be all that fond of Gryffindors or Muggleborns, but _I_ am. I make friends with people that I like, and no matter how long you pester me about it, that is _not_ going to change." he growled, jaw muscles clenched tightly. Draco's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest.

"But--" he began, but Harry interrupted with another low growl.

"No, Draco. Just because you live your life doing and believing every little thing your daddy says doesn't mean I have to." he hissed, and Draco's face darkened, eyes flashing with something like pain. For a moment, he simply stared back, as if contemplating something or other. Harry leaned back in his chair again, watching the other out of the corner of his eye.

"Is that why you're always avoiding me?" Draco asked at last, his expression unreadable. Harry blinked at him, eyes no longer narrowed in anger. _Was that what this was all about? _He wondered, _my avoiding Malfoy all the time? _He hadn't thought he'd cared.

"Partially, I suppose," Harry replied with a slight nod, his gaze now transformed into a wary one. He wasn't sure how much he should say, or if he should say anything at all for that matter.

"Well then why!" Draco demanded, and Harry narrowed his eyes, annoyed that his train of thought had been broken. When he replied, it was with a definite snarl; the truth delivered with a sarcastic, well-honed blade.

"Well, let's see..." he growled thoughtfully, "For one, you keep trying to convince me to stop being friends with anyone not Slytherin. Two, your always going on about the Dark Lord _this_, and the Dark Lord _that_, and frankly, I want nothing to do with him. Oh yes, and let's not forget three...your always spying on me and trying to follow me around. I think that about covers it." he finished, and immediately rose from his chair. "Good Night." he said coldly, and started walking toward the archway yet again.

"Wait! Calm down already..." Draco pleaded, having leapt up from his own chair. His eyes were wide and slightly panicked, causing Harry to pause out of sheer curiosity. With a raised eyebrow he turned back around to face him, arms crossed resolutely over his chest. "Listen, I'm sorry," Draco said, his eyes dropping to the floor. The words were spoken slowly and softly, and Harry knew right then and there that he was witnessing something rare indeed; a Malfoy apologizing.

"Huh..!" Harry stuttered in surprise, his arms dropping to his sides and eyes snapping wide open.

"I said I was sorry, okay?" Draco repeated, refusing to raise his eyes, though his voice had regained some of it's usual edge.

"Why?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. Draco let out an exasperated breath and turned partly away, his eyes clenched tightly shut.

"I don't want to make you avoid me, okay?" he muttered, then sighed and sagged his shoulders. "Just...I'm sorry." he said again, and finally looked up. Harry was truly surprised by the expression on Draco's face. It was open and determined, and undeniably honest. Whatever his reasoning and despite any ulterior motives he may have had, Draco was telling the truth.

"Okay, I believe you." Harry said firmly. The reaction was quite interesting, Draco nodded and gave a small half-smile, and then his expression immediately began to shift, reverting to it's usual superior smirk. Harry shook his head and turned toward the stairs once again. "Good night," he said as he disappeared through the doorway, still dazed by the sudden shift in atmosphere.

"Good night, Zachary," Draco said in reply, and sauntered off towards his Transfiguration book once again.

------------end 33-----------

Notes: Sev & Harry will be back nxt chapter, I promise! I can't believe I wrote a chapter without Sev…I feel wretched! I've betrayed him! FORGIVE ME! I don't like this chapter at all, but I had to get that stuff out of the way….. Ah well. I promise I'll get the fanart you guys sent me posted up soon too! I'll let you know when on the group mailing list!


	34. Felines & Midnight Visits

**Note::** I hate the end of the semester….have I mentioned that before? I really, really do…..and that's all I'll say regarding how long it took to get this out, aside from the fact that my computer disk ate half the chapter and I had to rewrite it all over again….::sniff:: WAAAAH!!! Oh, and I promise to get my spelling of 'Beauxbaton's (sp?!!) corrected in the last chapter soon, thanks toEssence of Magic for pointing that out! Eeek!! Somebody needs to create a Harry Potter spell check program, just for all those names and words!!

**Thank you to everybody that reviewed!!!!** I'll try and answer some questions next chapter, I promise!!

This chapter is dedicated to—ColorlessRainbow, Saerry Snape (double dedication!), and  lost soul, for reviewing my odd little song and poem. Thank you! I'm honored! : )

A Father's Sin

By Severitus

**Chapter 34**---**Felines and Midnight Visits**

"Wow...I think she's going to make it all the way this time...." Ron said in amazement, his gold-colored eyes widened with amazement. Harry gave a soft 'whuff' of agreement, his emerald eyes fixed on Hermione from his seat next to Ron's chair. Over the past few days, Hermione had upped the ante on practicing her animagus transformation, sometimes transforming two or even three times a night rather than their usual one. As a result, she'd made amazing progress, and was even now kneeling on the couch, her form rapidly shrinking in size as spotted and striped dusty colored fur covered most of her body. Ron, on the other hand, had apparently reached a plateau of a sort in his transformation, and couldn't seem to get it past a certain point. Currently he was in possession of paws and a long, bushy, orange-furred tail. 

            A gruff, startled meow suddenly drew his attention back to the couch, and Harry gave a wolfish grin as he watched Hermione blink out of her concentration, stretching her new limbs and twitching her nose. She sat back on her haunches, blinking large amber eyes as she turned her head, struggling to get a look at herself. After a moment she looked over at Ron and Harry and made a questioning sound deep in her throat.

            "Wow..." Ron said as he stared at her, and Harry had to poke him in the leg with his nose to draw his attention back to the question. "Er...I mean, you look like some sort of cat, Herm. Larger than a house cat, and your tail's much shorter too," Ron said, and Hermione turned her head and looked down at her stub of a tail, something like a smile crossing her mostly feline face. Harry grinned at her when she looked up, and jerked his head in the direction of the mirror across the room. She immediately leapt off the couch and made her way across the room, struggling to adjust to the four large paws. _A Lynx_, Harry thought with amusement. It would be interesting to see Crookshank's reaction to his master's other form.

            Across the room, unusual purring sounds could be heard from the large feline pacing back in forth in front of the mirror, twisting this way and that as she studied her new body. Delicate tufts of white fur tipped each of her pointed ears, and she played for a moment, twitched them this way and that as if studying the muscles that made them move. She also paused a moment to flex her claws, the large, hooked blades shining dangerously in the dim light. With a happy meow, shed turned and bounded back across the room, leaping expertly back up onto the couch. Harry turned his head away and grumbled; he was still having trouble just _walking_ in his wolf form.

            Ten minutes later found the trio back in their rightful forms, each beaming with excitement over Hermione's success. "What were you?" Ron asked suddenly, massaging the odd tingling away from his now human hands.

            "I'm a lynx!" she said happily, snatching up the Animagus book and clutching it to her chest. Harry laughed and sat back in his chair, shoving his mussed hair back out of his face. A soft sigh drew his attention back to the red-haired boy sitting in the other chair. Ron had a small smile on his face, but his eyes held a different emotion. 

            "Relax, Ron, you'll get it soon," Harry said reassuringly, and Ron looked up at him briefly.

            "Yeah, I hope so," he muttered, and Harry tapped his chin in thought, eyes narrowed as he mulled over an idea.

            "Maybe we should tell Sirius," he said at last, lacing his long fingers as he raised his gaze to meet his friend's.

            "Wh-what?!" Ron stuttered, his eyes widened and hands gripping the chair in surprise. Hermione, however, didn't seem to be too surprised by the idea, and instead merely cast him a curious look.

            "Are you sure about that Harry? He wouldn't be...upset?" she asked, brows crinkled in thought. 

            "Yeah, I mean...what we're doing isn't exactly legal or anything, after all...." Ron managed to say after he'd blinked away his surprise.

            "Are we talking about the same escaped convict here?" Harry laughed, eyes twinkling brightly, "Remember, Ron, Sirius didn't exactly become and Animagus legally either," he added, then sighed before continuing, dropping his gaze toward the small table in front of him, "To be honest, I have no idea how he'll react....but think about it this way, he might be able to help us out, give us a few pointers or something like that." Hermione nodded vigorously in agreement at that, and Ron seemed to relax some, his eyes narrowed as he thought it over.

            "You're probably right...it would be best if we told him. It probably wouldn't hurt to have another adult, aside from Dumbledore, who knows about this." Hermione said, purposefully tapping the book in her lap with one finger.

            "You don't think he'd tell or anything?" Ron asked meekly, daring to glance up and meet Harry's gaze. Harry laughed again before replying.

            "Nah...if he told anyone it'd be Dumbledore or Lupin. Dumbledore already knows, and Lupin suspects something, so there shouldn't be anything to worry about," he said, waving one pale hand in the air as if to brush away his friend's concern. Ron nodded and smiled, finally seeming to relax some with the idea. 

            "So when are we going to tell him?" Hermione asked.

            "Soon," Harry said shortly, smiling as an amusing idea formed in his head. If they were going to tell Sirius, they might as well have a bit of fun with it while they were at it, and he had a pretty good idea on how to go about it. Leaning forward in his chair, he smiled mischievously to his friends and began to tell them about his idea.

---------------------------------

~ later that night~

            Some people found it difficult to find their way in the darkness, especially when it was so vast and complete. Almost no light leaked into the depths of the dungeons, but Harry didn't mind at all. He was used to the darkness, and finding his silent way through it was almost as easy as in daylight. Ten years locked in the darkness of the cupboard under the stairs had made being anything but comfortable with the dark impossible, and even now, after nearly five years of freedom from that enclosed space, the familiarity lingered. Sometimes at night he even imagined he was still in the cupboard, curled up in a tight ball to avoid the bugs and things that thrived without the light. Several times he'd even found himself startled awake, swiping at some many-legged thing that existed only in memory. He really couldn't blame Ron for fearing spiders at those moments, he didn't exactly like them either, though he _was_ accustomed to them. 

            Slowly, he came to a stop, turning to face the brownish shadow that he knew to be a door. Taking a deep breath, he asked himself if it would have been a better idea to wait until morning. Sucking in a breath to strengthen his resolve, he shook his head at himself. No, this was not something that could wait until morning. Raising a fist, he knocked quietly on the door, casting a nervous glance up and down the hall. He hadn't bothered to grab the invisibility cloak, not wanting to risk it being seen by any of his dormmates.

            His head snapped up as he heard the door creak open, revealing a tall, dark shadow that was illuminated faintly from behind. "Harry?" the shadow asked, voice slurred with sleep and a hint of surprise. Harry looked up with a sheepish nod and the shadow seemed to shake off the initial surprise, whirling around and making some brief motion with one hand. Instantly dim light flooded the dark room beyond, and Harry silently obeyed when his father motioned him inside. "What is it?" he asked, closing the door with a soft click. Harry looked up as his father approached, slightly surprised by what he saw. The man was dressed in long gray nightshirt, his hair wild and tousled by sleep. All in all he looked like anything but the infamous Potions Master. 

            "I...had a dream," Harry admitted nervously, and Severus nodded in understanding before motioning toward the couch facing the fireplace. Harry headed toward the indicated seat and sat down a little stiffly, turning to face the older man as he sat down next to him.

            "Alright...what happened?" he asked, dark eyes now wide and alert, no longer heavily lidded by sleep. Harry paused a minute before answering, marveling at the look of pure concern present in his father's eyes. There were very few people who ever got that look in their eyes around him, the Dursleys certainly never had.

            "I saw Voldemort...he was talking to someone, something about a book.....He mentioned Beauxbaton's too, I...I think that's where they're looking for that book," Harry said, brows furrowed as he tried to recall the exact details of the dream.

            "Did they say what book they were looking for?" Severus asked, blinking in confusion. Once or twice Voldemort had made mention of some sort of book when addressing his Death Eaters, but he had always been very vague about it. Harry's shoulders slumped and he looked up at him apologetically.

            "They didn't, I'm sorry," he said, and Severus sighed, watching his son with a thoughtful expression. 

            "You've no need to apologize Harry, you can not help when you do and do not dream," he said, grasping Harry's shoulder reassuringly. The boy looked impossibly tired, as if he'd gotten scarce few hours of sleep before he'd actually had the dream. Harry looked up to him with a small smile, his eyes shining dully in the dim light. "Have you been using that potion I gave you?"

            "Yeah, most of the time. I went down to the common room to work on some homework, and I sort of fell asleep down there...." he admitted, smiling sheepishly, but then the faint smile diminished, and when he looked back up again, his eye were shining with seriousness. "There was more to the dream...." he began, and Severus nodded, urging him to continue.

            "He's going to send out the Serpent's Children again tomorrow, sometime in the evening," Harry said, his eyes rigidly fixed on the floor. Severus paled and tensed a little, but he remained silent, waiting for his son to continue, "He didn't say where, just that...he wanted them to have some practice, something about strengthening his control on them," at that, Harry looked up briefly and then down again, nervously wringing his hands in his lap.

            "You'll be safe so long as you remain on the grounds Harry, you know that," Severus said, though he himself wasn't immune to apprehension. 

            "Yes, but what if the attack is someplace close to the school? Dumbledore said that the closer Voldemort came, the less the barriers would do to filter out his power..." Harry said, looking up with what was clearly fear etched across his face. Almost unconsciously, Severus pulled the boy closer, draping his arm across his shoulders protectively. Harry had every reason to be frightened, hell, Severus was frightened too. After all, this wasn't something that could be fought against, it wasn't as simple as a Imperius curse. This was something irrevocably connected to his son, woven within his very flesh and blood. The summoning of the Serpent's Children was not something that he could protect him from completely, no matter how powerful the shielding spells. Yes, at Hogwarts he was undoubtedly safer than anywhere else, but there was always the chance the barrier spells would weaken, or otherwise fail to protect against the Dark Lord's power.

            "It'll be alright, Harry. You can stay in here tomorrow evening if you wish. Albus' acquaintances should be arriving any day now to strengthen the school barriers, if you can make it through tomorrow evening then you won't have anything to worry about," Severus said, struggling to find the proper words to console the boy at his side. He hoped it was consoling, anyway….while it was true that he and Harry were infinitely more comfortable around each other than they had been, there were certain things that still left him stumbling. How to go about consoling someone, for example. To his great relief, Harry cast him a thankful smile, some of the fear and apprehension disappearing from the bright emerald of his eyes.

            "I hope you're right....but I think I will come down here tomorrow, just in case." Harry replied after a moment's complication, but then paused, casting Severus a vaguely surprised and slightly shy expression, "You really don't mind?" he questioned, and Severus cracked a half-smile. Evidently Harry was still getting used to certain things as well.

            "I wouldn't have offered if I did," Severus replied, and Harry grinned at him, all traces of former unease disappeared in an instant.

            "Thank you," Harry offered, and leaned back into the couch, eyes drifting down to watch the low-flickering fire. They sat like that for a while, watching the flames as they shifted and changed, occasionally sending up a crackling cloud of sparks. Blinking away the drowsiness struggling to coax him down into sleep, Severus turned his head and studied his son's expression. Harry's eyelids were drifting steadily downwards, the dark lashes continually fluttering as he struggling against his obvious fatigue. His head also began to droop down every now and then, his own sleep-mussed hair sliding forward to obscure his view of the hypnotic flames. Clearing his throat, Severus watched in mild amusement as Harry startled awake once again, blinking and struggling to suppress a yawn.

            "Listen, there's only a few more hours left until morning, so you're welcome to just stay here if you like," he offered, and Harry blinked at him, pausing a moment to allow the words to sink into his half-awake brain.

            "I _am_ pretty tired..." Harry admitted, stifling yet another yawn against the palm of his hand. Severus smiled and stood up from the couch, stretching away some of the drowsiness as he stood.

            "I'll be right back," he said, and Harry watched in mild confusion as the man disappeared off into the shadowed depths of his rooms. Harry listened as he heard what sounded like a cabinet shutting, and then his father once again emerged from the shadows, carrying a fluffy down pillow and a warm looking green blanket. The pillow he dropped onto the end of the couch, and Harry stood up as he unfolded the blanket and held it out to him.

            "Thanks," he said, unable to keep from smiling at the gesture. A nod was the only reply, though Harry considered that in itself an improvement over his usual habit of completely ignoring thanks altogether.

            "Goodnight, Harry," he said, casting him a sincerely warm smile.

            "Goodnight...," Harry replied, watching as the figure disappeared back into the shadows once again, "...dad," he added with a soft smile. 

--------End 34------------

**Note:** Well, sorry if it seemed a bit choppy…the Sev and Harry scene originally was going to be a chapter by itself, but it was just a bit too short for that. Ah well….and yeah, I know a bunch of people have already used that Animagus form for Ron, but I didn't realize that when I first started this story, and I really didn't want to change it, so…::shrug:: Ah well. Hopefully I'll have another chapter out this week (only 1 week of school left!! WooHoo!! Yeah!!) but no guarantees. I'm sorry it took so long!!! ::cries:: Anyway, you'll be glad to know that I went ahead and _actually_ plotted out the next few chapters! ::collective gasps:: And yes, in chapter 36 you'll find out about that book….hehe. The lion and the revelation to Sirius aren't far off either. Woo! This is fun!

**FANART Alert!!—**if you're not on my mailing list (link is in my bio) I just thought I'd let you know that a bunch of fanart is now posted on the group website. )if you're already n the list, then you already know about it…heh) As soon as it lets me sign in, I'm going to make the gallery public, so you don't have to be a member to see the fanart. (yahoo is being mean to me right now…grr!)

**Next Chapter---**Draco finds out something interesting about 'Zachary,' and Severus gets summoned, and gains his first glimpse of the rest of the Serpents Children..::shiver::


	35. Suspicion and a Mission

Notes: Just that this chapter may be a bit odd in the beginning….

A Father's Sin

By Severitus

Chapter 35---Suspicion and a Mission

Care of Magical Creatures had always been an interesting class, for one painful reason or another, and as Zachary Snape, it had yet to prove to be anything different. Standing between the huddle of Gryffindors and the huddle of Slytherins Harry was currently obliged to hear quite a bit of interesting conversation from the two Houses. When he'd been in Gryffindor before the identity switch, all he'd ever heard was the plethora of chatter that usually went on before and after class, occasionally colored by a Slytherin-aimed insult or two. But now, seeming as neither Ron and Hermione nor Malfoy were willing to entirely give up his company, the back and forth flying of insults was nearly making his head spin. On one side, there was Malfoy, struggling to remain intimidating and possessive of his housemate and at the same time flinging carefully worded insults at the Gryffindors. And then on the other side, Ron and Hermione, standing calmly at Harry's side with one struggling to remain calm and pay attention to class, and the other seething and red with anger, with only Hermione's vise-like grip on the neck of his robe preventing him from tackling Malfoy on the spot.

And then there were the other students, most of which, no matter their house, were still fairly terrified of the Potions Master's son. The rest of the Gryffindors were by far the most shocked by the interesting play of events in Care of Magical Creatures. Most couldn't believe that a Slytherin was actually having a decent conversation with a Gryffindor (well...when Ron and Hermione weren't busy defending themselves from Malfoy's scathing comments). And then there were the Slytherins...for the most part, they were just as mortified as the Gryffindors, though not a one looked more than a little surprised. Most had at least spoken briefly with 'Zachary' and knew him to be a bit...odd...for a Slytherin, but their pride demanded that they at least appear to be more knowledgeable than the Gryffindors.

"Y'know, Weasel, I heard that you're on the Quidditch team this year. Tell me, what did you have to do to get a broom?" Draco drawled at one point, his eyes narrowed and lips twisted into an arrogant smile, "Oh wait...I know...you probably don't even _have _one. I'll bet you'll just be standing on the ground, jumping up and down in front of the goal posts..." Draco continued, causing several of the other Slytherins to snicker. The first game of the year, Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor, was coming up soon, and Draco had been having the time of his life insulting every member o the Gryffindor team that he could. Ron's face had flushed a violent, angry red, and Hermione tugged him back as he tried to get closer to Malfoy. Harry only stood between the two, flicking his eyes from left to right as he watched the exchange.

"I HAVE a broom, Malfoy!" Ron yelled, his hands clenched into shaking fists at his sides, teeth gritted and eyes flashing.

"Oh really? What, a stick with a couple of twigs glued to the end?" Malfoy taunted, hands on his hips as his smile widened. Hermione frowned, standing up straight from her place next to Ron.

"Whatever he has, it's better than whatever you _begged_ your father to get you, Malfoy," she said, and quite a few students gaped at her. Hermione almost never insulted anyone, and on those rare moments that she did, it still came as a bit of a surprise that the soft-spoken witch possessed such a sharp tongue.

"What's that, Mudblood? I'm surprised they even let your kind _watch_ Quidditch..." Draco retorted, and Harry narrowed his eyes, leveling a glare at his Slytherin companion. While it had been amusing for the most part to watch the trade of insults when they'd been fairly light, Harry wasn't about to let it go any farther than that.

"Draco..." Harry warned, his voice gaining a low, warning growl. Draco, though, didn't even glance up, either having not heard it or choosing to ignore it completely. Harry rather thought it was the latter.

"What surprises me is that you're still on the team, when it's so obvious that your father bought _your_ way onto the team...I mean, have you ever even _caught_ the snitch?" Ron drawled, surprising Harry by how very much his now wicked looking smile reminded him of Malfoy. Perhaps the two had more in common than he'd thought.

"Jealous that _I_ made the team before _you_, Weasel? Or of the fact that _I_ have money? What are you school robes made out of this year, huh? Curtains? Bedsheets?" Malfoy taunted, reaching in front of Harry to tug at the hem of Ron's shirt sleeve, as if to determine which of the two they were made of. Harry sighed and sagged his shoulders, silently slipping his wand from his robe pocket.

"_Silentio_," he said tiredly, the wand aimed almost lazily at Draco, "Hey, no offense or anything, but I warned you," he said when Draco cast him a thoroughly shocked expression. He crossed his arms and turned toward the front of the class, where Hagrid was now motioning them around toward the back of the hut.

"Thanks," Hermione said as they began walking around the hut, many students casting each other frightened looks. Whenever class was held behind the hut, it usually meant that it involved something dangerous. Harry only smiled at Hermione in reply as they rounded the corner and stopped when Hagrid raised his hand. Draco stopped nearby as well, grumbling silently and glaring at Ron, as if blaming him for Harry's actions.

Chained in the paddock behind Hagrid was one of the oddest looking creatures Harry had ever seen. It looked a bit like a small dragon, only it was really about the size of a horse. It's entire body was coated in blue scales of many different shades, shining brilliantly in the mid-day light. The most disconcerting part of its anatomy though, was the fact that it had about a dozen, serpent-like heads, all bobbing and weaving and looking in many different directions, odd white eyes flicking their gaze from one student to the next. Hagrid stepped toward the class and clapped his mighty hands together, practically beaming as he glanced at the semi-circle of students.

"A'right class, today we're learnin' about Hydra's." he declared, and there was instantly a rush of panicked noise, "No, no, don' worry. He's jus' a small one, a Blue Forest Hydra, not one o' those big 'uns you probably 'eard about," Hagrid said quickly, frantically waving his hands in the air in an attempt to reassure the now many terrified students. Only a few seemed to take his words to heart, while the rest edged slowly behind the other students, there eyes focused on the creature in clear panic.

"First off, the Hydra is a close cousin o' the snake, 'specially the smaller ones like Talon, here. The thing is, they're real smart, much smarter than any other reptile ye'll see. Now...have a look at those claws on 'is feet...see 'em? He uses those ta climb trees and snag 'is prey." Hagrid began again, stepping off to the side and pointing one massive finger toward the thing's dragon-like paws, "Best not get too close now..." he warned, but Harry slowly began to tune him out, instead finding his attention drawn to the odd hissing a few of the Hydra's heads were making. Harry nearly jerked with surprise when he realized the creature, Talon, was talking to itself in Parseltongue.

"Honestly, am I _really_ that interesting? If you ask me, this big human right here is worth more of a stare..." One of the heads was saying, and Harry saw that it was looking at Hagrid. Then a second head took up the conversation, it's eyes and head turning to stare directly at Crabbe and Goyle, "And what about those two humans over there...they don't look like they understand a word this guy is saying..." it said, and then Harry nearly laughed at what two of the heads then said at the same time, "Oh, the joy of talking to oneself...well, at least they don't understand me, I can sit hear and call them all manner of things and they won't know the difference," it mused, and Harry had to put a hand to his mouth to cover the wide grin. This thing was definitely the oddest creature he'd ever run across...

"...generally, they're not very hostile, though if they do find ya interestin' they jus' might attack ya and take you back to their lair..." Hagrid was saying, and half of the class shivered in fear, now inching closer together and away from the paddock.

"Hey you! Yeah, you, ever hear of something called a _bath_? I can smell you WAY over here..." the creature was saying, it's nose pointed at one of the shaking Slytherins, who Harry knew had had Quidditch practice that morning, as was apparently very smelly by the Hydra's standards. Then the Hydra turned one of its heads toward Malfoy, its hissing voice now more animated, as it was obviously having fun with its little game, "And you, what the _hell_ did you do to your fur! It's _white_! And it's stuck to your head! You might want to have something done about that..." the creature said, and Draco was now staring at Harry a little oddly, though Harry couldn't really blame him, since he was having an awfully hard time stifling his laughter.

The rest of the class passed in virtually the same manner, though Harry had broken out in a brief coughing fit once in order to cover up his hysterical laughter. Draco had kept staring at him oddly almost the entire time, his gaze shifting back and forth between him and the Hydra. Harry didn't pay it much mind, nor to the class for that matter. By the end, he couldn't remember a thing about Hydras aside from the many colorful comments it had made about virtually every student in the class. Amusingly, the Hydra had noticed his sad attempt at hiding his laughter and declared in a loud hissing voice, "Call a healer! This one's about to _die_!" which of course, sent Harry off into a renewed fit of snickering laughter.

When the class had at last come to an end and Harry took off with Draco toward their next class, he'd thankfully regained his composure enough to breath properly. Draco, however, was still staring at him.

"What were you laughing about during class?" he asked, and Harry blinked in surprise.

"Oh, ah...nothing, I was just thinking about something funny," he said quickly, and Draco narrowed his eyes.

"What?" he persisted, determined to figure out what was going on. By the exchange he'd seen during the class, he'd been almost positive that Zachary had been laughing at the Hydra...which was ludicrous of course. Strangely though, he'd noticed that every time the creature had hissed and redirected its heads was when Zachary had started laughing. It had almost seemed as if Zachary actually _understood_ what the thing was saying...

"Oh, it's nothing, really," Zachary said suddenly, and Draco snapped out of his thoughts, "I'm surprised at you, Draco," he said, leveling him with an amused gaze.

"Huh? What for?" Draco asked, blinking at him in surprise.

"You didn't retaliate or yell at me the moment that silence spell wore off," he said, and Draco shrugged.

"Well, you may have no qualms about attacking a fellow housemate, but _I _certainly do," he admitted, straightening his shoulders with pride, "And besides, if your father found out, he'd kill me!"

-------------------------------------------------------------

The house Severus apparrated to was a familiar one, though the room itself was one he'd never seen before. It was deeper in the building, further into the coolness of the earth. Several doors were scattered alongside one wall, all looking extremely old and rarely used. At either end of the rectangular room lay an open doorway, one leading up a damp, ill-lighted flight of stairs and the second opening up into a broad, bright hallway of somewhat drier stone. And before the second door stood the Dark Lord himself, Nagini wrapped around his pale, thin neck and one shining black boot tapping impatiently on the stone. Severus strode immediately forward when he sighted the Dark Lord, falling to one knee before him and casting his head toward the floor.

"Ah, hello Severus, how good of you to join us," the Dark Lord hissed, and Nagini made some odd little sound that was probably a laugh, "Come with me, Severus," he commanded, and Severus rose, absently shoving his hair out of his face as he rose.

"I am at your command, Master," he said, eyes lowered toward the stone flooring. Voldemort nodded and began walking down the brightly lit hallway, boots clicking softly on the rough floor. Severus followed obediently, glancing warily from side to side as they passed by door after door in the hallway.

"Tell me...how is Zachary doing at Hogwarts?" Voldemort suddenly asked, not turning from the hallway ahead of him.

"He's adjusting very well, my Lord," Severus said carefully, eyes narrowed at the back of the Dark Lord's robes. Why would he ask such a question? Did he suspect something? he wondered, fists unconsciously clenched at his sides. He forced himself to calm down as they neared an open door, sucking in several deep breaths and relaxing his fingers at his sides.

"As resilient as his father..." the Dark Lord mused, drawing to a stop directly in front of the open doorway. He turned to face it, and Severus did the same, instantly gaping at the sight before him.

It was a vast room full of children...from wall to wall they filled the dim room, sitting cross-legged and utterly still on the cold stone floor. They all sat in exactly the same fashion, hands resting on their knees, heads raised just enough so that their blank, empty eyes were directed at the doorway, at Voldemort. It took Severus a moment to figure out if they were even alive, for they were so still. But they were indeed breathing, chests rising and falling in perfect, unerring rhythm to each other. And then he noticed what kept them all together, what explained why they were so blank and empty, linked together in nothingness. On each child's face there was a single mark, in a slightly different spot for each one. It was a small, curled serpent, exactly like the mark that Harry bore directly between his eyes. "My grandest achievement, Severus, my near perfect Serpent's Children, far more reliable than any of my other followers," Voldemort began, smiling as he cast his gaze over the children, "Ingenious, aren't they? Perfect puppets..." he said, speaking almost reverently of his own work.

"Y-yes, brilliant, my Lord." Severus stuttered, staring wide-eyed into the room, unable to tear his gaze away from the blankness of their eyes. He couldn't help but imagine with horrible clarity what it would be like to see Harry sitting there among them, staring so blankly...completely empty...

"Severus, I have a bit of a mission for you. I doubt if it will bear fruit, but I must have every possibility explored," the Dark Lord began again, and Severus forced his gaze away, expression once again stony and unreadable.

"I will do my best to please you, Lord," he said, bowing his head slightly.

"There is a book that I require...composed by Slytherin himself after he broke with the other Founders of Hogwarts. I want you to discreetly search Hogwarts for this book, but do not draw attention to yourself. As I've said, I do not believe it is actually at Hogwarts, it is far too obvious of a place, but...I must be sure," he said, tapping his chin in thought, "Search all the libraries, Dumbledore's office if you can manage it...you will recognize the book by it's magical signature. When last it was in my possession, I marked it with a bit of my magic. Your Dark Mark should burn or tingle when you touch it," he said, and Severus nodded, hand unconscious wrapping around his forearm.

"I will begin immediately, my Lord," he said, bowing lower toward the ground.

"Good. Inform me of any progress you make," Voldemort said, and turned away, signaling the end of the brief meeting. Casting one last, terrified glance toward the darkened, nightmare room, Severus Apparated away. Even as he began the trek back towards the castle, still bright in the light of the setting sun, he couldn't help but worry. Harry, his son, could become one of those children in that room...devoid of everything that made him who he was. And if Voldemort's power somehow reached him, somehow took ahold of him like a puppet by the strings, there wouldn't be a damned thing that Severus could do about it. Turning to look toward the setting sun, Severus quickened his pace. He wanted to get his report to Dumbledore over quickly, for if Harry's dream had been true, the Serpent's Child would be summoned within a few short hours, and Hogwarts barriers would once again be put to the test. He would be there for his son, if and when the summoning came.

---------End 35----------

Note: Just so you know, I hadn't planned on keeping the Hydra around for more than this chapter, I just needed something that hissed in order to get Draco's suspicions up and running….hehe.

Note2--okay, not sure when the next one'll be out exactly, but probably early next week. Also…I finally got brave enough to try and draw Zachary….it was a sort-of Prismacolor marker experiment. It's posted along with all the other fanart at the Yahoo groups website (link in my bio.)

**Next Chapter**--Dumbledore tells Severus exactly what is so important about the book, and the summoning, including one of those precious father-son moments everybody seems to love so much, hehe.


	36. The Book

**Notes:** Sorry this took so long….I had a minor case of Writer's Block on parts of this chapter. You have a medium-rare steak to thank for my renewed inspiration….honest! Anyway I'll be started my first summer class Tuesday, but I should have a lot of time to write now, so updates should be much closer together. Cross your fingers I don't get a homework-savy teacher!!!

A Father's Sin

By Severitus

**Chapter****36**---The Book

            Never before had the trek across the Hogwarts grounds seemed to take so impossibly long. Severus wasn't quite sure if it was concern or fear that made the trip seem longer than normal, but he did know that it had something to do with the haunting images that kept replaying themselves through his head. Each time he closed his eyes for even the briefest of moments, he found himself staring back into the dim room once again, faced with the horde of perfectly blank, death-like faces. And in those brief moments he also saw his son there, devoid of everything save that unbroken emptiness.

            The castle doors flew open with a resounding 'bang,' echoing down the corridors and sending a few nearby Hufflepuffs scrambling for safety. Severus ignored them completely, in truth only dimly aware that he had made it inside the castle at all. All he cared about was giving his stupid report and getting back down to his rooms. He didn't know for sure when exactly Voldemort would summon the Serpent's Children, but he knew that he had to be with Harry when it happened. 

            "Sugar Quill," he hissed at the stone Gargoyle, and stood impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the monstrosity to open. It seemed to take forever, and he glared at it as it swung open, mouth twisted in an angry snarl. When at last it was open enough for him to slip past, he dashed up the stairs, not even bothering to knock once he'd reached to door at the top.

            The Headmaster looked startled to say the least, though thankfully he was alone in the office. Not that it would have mattered much to Severus if he'd had company, for he would have bee quite happy to toss said company right out the door if the need arose.

            "Severus, is something the matter?" The Headmaster asked as Severus strode into the center of the room, huffing in a strained effort to regain his lost breath.

            "No, I'm merely in a bit of a rush. I'd like to get my report out of the way as soon as possible, if you don't mind," he said quickly, and the Headmaster looked at him curiously, but nodded his assent.

            "Not at all, have a seat, Severus, I hardly think standing so stiffly could be all that comfortable." he said, waving one frail hand toward the seat before the desk. Severus complied thankfully, falling heavily down into the chair. "Now, what news do you bring?" 

            "He has commanded me to search the school for a 'book' of his, something or other that was composed by Slytherin himself. I'm not quite sure what it is, but he's made reference to it on several occasions as well," Severus began, casting Dumbledore a decidedly searching expression. He was positive that Albus knew precisely what book the Dark Lord was talking about, and was hoping that he'd be kind enough to tell him about it.

            "Does he seem convinced that it is here?" Albus asked, and Severus paused in inquiry, noting the worried expression plainly worn on the Headmaster's face.

            "No. Actually, he had little faith that I would find anything. He said that he just wanted to explore the possibility," Severus replied, blinking in mild confusion. Not much could truly make the Headmaster worry...well...visibly worry anyway. What could be so important about a little book that it would make the great Albus Dumbledore worry?

            "That's good...I had hoped he would assume as much," Albus sighed, sinking back in his chair with obvious relief. Severus narrowed his eyes, two and two slowly coming together. Instantly his eyes snapped wide open and he leaned back in his chair, gaping in surprise.

            "You mean it actually _is_ here?" he gasped, and Albus nodded, his eyes twinkling mischievously. 

            "Yes, it is. It has been here for the past ten years or so, actually. Igor Karkaroff delivered it to me for safekeeping," he explained, and Severus continued gaping, "He may not have trusted me much, but he certainly had faith in Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued, and Severus snorted. That had been an understatement; Karkaroff had trusted hardly anyone, and certainly not Dumbledore. Severus himself had been one of the few people that Karkaroff had been willing to confide it, and it was very surprising the he would have sent the book to Dumbledore so easily.

            "So it would seem..." Severus mused, tapping his chin in thought. Hogwarts did have a reputation for being one of the most well-protected structures in all of Europe, when one looked at it that way, then it really wasn't too surprising that the book had been sent to Dumbledore, "If you don't mind my asking, Albus, what exactly is this book?" he asked, one eyebrow raised with curiosity.

            "Ah, I suppose I should tell you, since it does concern your son in a way," Dumbledore said, not quite meeting Severus in the eye.

            "Indeed. I would have to insist that you do, then," Severus growled lightly, eyes narrowed once again. Albus sighed and laced his fingers atop the desk, looking very much like he was about to give a lecture before the Wizard's Council.

            "Very well," he began, "The book contains all of Salazar Slytherin's greatest magical achievements, I suppose you could call it his 'work' journal of a sort. Within it are detailed plans for the Chamber of Secrets, information on the construction of the original magical barriers of the school, and even details on how Slytherin forged his weaponry," he said, and Severus could already feel his eyes widening. That much information alone was cause for considerable alarm, but he had a feeling that the Headmaster was far from finished. "However, the most significant information contained within that book is a step by step account of the creation and control of the Serpent's Children," he said, and Severus stared blankly at him, hands gripping the chair in a white-knuckled grasp. 

            "Slytherin created that spell?!" he stuttered in surprise, blinking in an attempt to bring the thought into clarity. It had always been assumed by the Death Eaters that Voldemort himself had designed the spell to create the Serpent's Children as a way of fulfilling Slytherin's dream, never that Slytherin had created it himself. All of Slytherin's possessions had thought to have been destroyed long ago by the other three founders or the school. That such a powerful item could have survived destruction was shocking enough.

            "Yes, he was the mastermind behind it. The original Serpent's Children were a part of the reason that Slytherin defected from the other three Founders. Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff would not tolerate magic that so blatantly enslaved anyone, let alone children," Dumbledore said, gaze directed at the top of the desk, "Voldemort acquired the book when he was a student here. I do not know for sure, but I believe he found it secreted away in the Chamber of Secrets. As you know, he later used it to create the Serpent's Children through his Death Eaters. He entrusted Karkaroff with the book until such time as he would need it again...and that time has arrived." he said quietly, and he raised his gaze once again, locking it with Severus' own startled gaze.

            "But what does he need it for? Surely he doesn't mean to create another batch of Serpent's Children...." Severus asked, brows scrunched in thought. It wouldn't make sense to create more Serpent's Children now, unless he merely wanted to secure the future once again, as he had fifteen years ago. But that didn't explain why he was so desperate to acquire the book. The adamancy with which he was pursuing it suggested that it had some immediate purpose, something that played an integral role on his current battle with Dumbledore and the Ministry.

            "Voldemort's control over them is not currently absolute. Yes, he has complete control over their minds and bodies, but at the moment they are nothing more than puppets. However, that is not all they are capable of becoming," Dumbledore paused, and Severus grimaced. He wasn't sure that he wanted to hear what the Serpent's Children were capable of. After all, Harry was technically one of them, and everything that concerned the rest of them, concerned him as well...."The Serpent's Children have many dormant abilities that Voldemort desires to make use of; however, he requires a spell contained within that book to awaken those dormant abilities. Needless to say, we cannot allow that to happen. The results would be...devastating to say the least," Dumbledore said, and he looked pained for a moment, and Severus imagined that Dumbledore was envisioning just how devastating it could become.

            "What kind of abilities...?" Severus asked softly, half afraid of the answer, and half afraid that if he didn't ask, he would find out first hand.

            "You are aware that the Children are interconnected?" Dumbledore began.

            "Yes..."

            "Among other things, they have the ability to essentially act as one being. Through one of their number, they could cast a single spell...say Avada Kedavra for example, and though the spell was only cast once, the magical power from each and every one of the Serpent's Children would be behind that one curse, focused through that one child. So in essence, one Serpent's Child could be strategically placed in a populated area, and could effectively devastate the population with only _one_ cast spell,"  Dumbledore said, his gaze unnaturally sharp and penetrating. Severus leaned back in his chair, eyes widening as the gravity of the Headmaster's words began to sink in. "Quite easily Voldemort could send the Children across the country, and one by one they could be ordered to cast the spell...I'm sure you can imagine what would happen," the older wizard continued, and Severus visibly cringed, shutting his eyes against the imagery conjured by his imagination.

            "Good lord....within a matter of minutes he could completely destroy entire cities...." he breathed, once again wide-eyed with shock. If what Dumbledore was saying was indeed true, than a single Serpent's Child would possess the ability to cast a spell at the very least 40 times more powerful than normal. With some curses only one was already more than enough, he couldn't even begin to imagine the effect _that_ much power would have on the world.

            "Exactly. Currently the Children can only act as puppets, connected in mind yet not in power, not too unlike victims of the Imperius Curse. They require a 'guide' of sorts to function at all, one of their number thinking for the rest of them in order to maintain any real connection. Without that guide, they are roughly the equivalent of comatose," Dumbledore recited, drawing his fingers idly across a parchment spread across his desk. His eyes weren't shining with their usual twinkle, but were dull with worry. Even Fawkes on his perch looked depressed, tail feathers falling limply to the floor.

            "So if we were to take out the 'guide'....." Severus began, eyes alight with renewed hope. Perhaps if that one particular Serpent's Child was destroyed, then the rest would simply fall into a comatose state, thus depriving Voldemort of his 'weapon.' Dumbledore cracked  a half-smile but shook his head, sighing deeply as he met the younger man's eyes.

            "A nice idea, yes, but unfortunately that would not work. Were the current 'head' of the group to be killed, Voldemort would merely choose one of the others as the focus for his control, and they would assume the role as the new 'guide.' The only way to stop them is to destroy Voldemort himself," Dumbledore sighed, steepling his wrinkled fingers atop the desk. Severus clenched his jaws, _now_ he realized just why Dumbledore seemed so depressed.

            "And if he gets a hold of the book...." he said, eyes downcast with thought.

            "Then he will no longer have need of a guide, and the Serpent's Children will essentially become one mind with many bodies, a single entity with abilities even I do not know the full extent of,"  The Headmaster said, and Severus cast him a brief, disbelieving stare. He didn't doubt for a minute that the old wizard knew precisely what 'abilities' the Serpent's Children possessed. He also had no doubt that pressing the man about it wouldn't get him any closer to answers. And then again, this was something that he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to. If Albus wasn't willing to tell him, then he undoubtedly had good reason for it, and Severus had the strangest feeling that it had everything to do with Harry.

            "I don't suppose the barriers would protect Harry any longer if that were to happen either..." he settled on replying, focusing his gaze on his own folded hands.

            "Quite honestly, I do not know," Dumbledore said, and Fawkes sang a brief note as he stroked his head, the fiery bird bristling with delight. Severus watched him vacantly for a moment, his eyes slowly narrowing as he mind retraced the events of the day. Black gaze once again alight with worry, he quickly changed the subject to another pressing concern.

            "Albus, I believe that Voldemort suspects something...about Harry," he said, and Dumbledore glanced up in surprise.

            "Did he ask about him?" he asked, hands splayed anxiously across the desktop.

            "Yes, he asked how he was adjusting to Hogwarts...right before he showed me the Serpent's Children. I think he suspects that 'Zachary' has the Mark...." Severus replied, hand unconsciously drifting to his own link to Voldemort. It tingled lightly at his touch, but thankfully stayed silent.

            "Then we must be extra careful. Severus, if he gives any more indication that he suspects as much, I do not want you to return to him. I will not risk you and Harry like that," Dumbledore commanded, his eyes once again possessing that calm, powerful air that dashed any hope of argument. Severus blinked in shock and quickly stopped himself from gaping. Albus would absolve him of his spying duties? That was something he hadn't expected in a million years, and he couldn't exactly say it was something he would be looking forward to. As much as he despised his work as a Death Eater, he had a duty to perform and sins to atone for.

            "V-very well, Albus. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must be off," he managed to mutter as he shook off the surprise. Dumbledore only smiled and nodded, leaning back in his ornate chair once again.

            "Alright, come and get me if anything happens, I will be here all evening," he said, and Severus nodded silently, once again forced to wonder if the man was telepathic.

            "I will," he said quietly, and slipped eagerly out the door. The clock was ticking, and despite his lingering curiosity over Slytherin's book, he wasn't about to let his son go through the summoning alone. Neither of them were entirely sure than anything would actually happen with the summoning, as Harry had only been briefly affected before, but they couldn't take chances. If something happened, Severus would be there, to either comfort or...restrain his son, whatever the need be. 

            The thought of having to physically restrain Harry made Severus' heart clench painfully, but he continued on toward the dungeons, dashing through several short cuts along the way. He couldn't bare the thought of his son becoming like those children in the room, just a puppet. It hurt to think about it, and he quickly forced his thoughts away. The barriers would protect him, if not completely, then at least enough to allow him to keep his own mind. And once Albus' friends arrived to strengthen the barrier, hopefully the summoning would no longer have any effect at all.

            The dungeon hallways were empty when he at last reached their cool darkness, the damp stones glistening in the flickering torchlight. He hadn't been in Albus' office long, but the setting of the sun outside the castle walls set his nerves on edge. If only he'd known exactly when the summoning would come....With a bit more force than necessary, Severus flung open the door to his chambers and dashed inside, only realizing how panicked he must have looked by the expression on the face of the person sitting across the room. Harry was sitting calmly on the couch, an old, ratty looking book laid open in his lap. 

            "Hello," Severus said, surprised to find himself slightly short of breath, "Did everything go okay today?" he asked, struggling to calm his racing heart. Harry looked more than a little surprised at the sudden change in his attitude, but he shrugged and closed the book, turning on a bright half-smile.

            "Yeah," he said, and as Severus approached, he noticed for the first time the look of worry in his son's eyes, "You had a meeting today," Harry said, one hand absently reaching up to brush over his scar.

            "Yes," Severus said, and busied himself in throwing off his outer robe before taking a seat next to his son. Something like relief was slowly flooding his veins, and only now did he realize that he'd been half expecting to find his son sprawled on the floor in pain.

            "I thought so, you look a little distressed, if you don't mind my saying so," Harry said with another slight smile, and Severus shook his head. 

            "It's not the meeting that's bothering me, Harry," he sighed, leaning back into the plush warmth of the couch, "Have you been here long?"

            "Not really, I was up in the library," Harry replied quickly, and Severus noticed the faint, unmistakably mischievous glint in his emerald eyes.

            "Studying, I hope," Severus said, fixing Harry with a determined glare. The boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, biting his lip with obvious guilt.

            "Er...." was all Harry said, averting his gaze to the cold hearth before the couch. Severus shook his head with amusement and sighed deeply, watching the boy with a glint within his own eyes. It really was quite amazing how the boy could be such a good actor when it came to taking on his new identity, and yet couldn't manage to look innocent when guilty if his life depended on it.

            "I thought not. But rest assured this summer you won't be procrastinating," Severus said, fixing Harry with a glare that practically dared him to argue. Harry blinked in surprise, his eyes suddenly becoming very wide and owl-like.

            "Does that mean what I think it means?" he gasped, and Severus smiled.

            "What do you think it means?" he asked, thoroughly enjoying his son's obvious excitement. He'd been mulling over the idea for a while now, but hadn't dared to broach the subject with Harry until Black had been informed of the situation. 

            "That I....Can I stay with you?" Harry stuttered, and Severus was surprised anew by the look of pure desperation and hope on his son's face. He hadn't thought that Harry would refuse, but he also hadn't dared to imagine that the boy would be overly thrilled by the idea either. 

            "Oh, I imagine I could find room for you somewhere...." he said, waving one hand dismissively. Instantly Harry broke into a wide grin, and Severus was nearly bowled over when the boy suddenly trapped him in the fiercest bear-hugs he'd ever experienced. He was pretty sure that even Hagrid would be hard-pressed to do better.

            "Thank you," Harry whispered into his hair, and Severus patted his back lightly, returning the hug in a slightly less lung-crushing manner. He was both thankful and not when Harry finally let him go and sat next to him on the couch once again, looking a little embarrassed about his sudden display of appreciation.

            "The Headmaster told me that you asked him if you could stay here last summer, I assumed that it was because you did not wish to return to your relatives," Severus said once he'd fully regained his breath. Harry looked away and nodded, the vague pain swirling in his eyes instantly igniting Severus' curiousity.

            "Yeah. I'd rather not ever see them again if I have any choice in the matter, and I know that the feeling is more than mutual," he said, and Severus was almost sorry he'd brought it up. The mood change from excited to pained had been almost instantaneous, and Severus knew without a doubt that there was something more to it that simple mutual dislike.

            "Wait, these _are_ your mother's relatives we're talking about here, correct?" he asked, brows furrowing with thought. On multiple occasions he'd heard Harry say one negative thing or another about the Dursleys. He knew that they hadn't exactly paid attention to him or been a proper family, but the pain in Harry's eyes seemed to go deeper than that. Surely Lily's relatives wouldn't have been...abusive in any way....He'd met her parents once, and they'd been some of the nicest people he'd ever run across. Surely Lily's sister wasn't _that _different from them....

            "Yes," Harry admitted with a nod, now staring quite adamantly at his lap.

            "Harry, what is it? You won't get in trouble, you know," Severus asked, placing one comforting hand on his son's thin shoulder. Harry flashed him a brief, thankful smile before looking back down again.

            "I know. I'd just...rather not talk about it, right now, anyway," he said, twisting his hands nervously in his lap. "I promise I'll tell you, okay? Just not right now," he said, raising his eyes once again.

            "Okay, I'll trust you," Severus sighed, leaning back into the couch once again. Harry returned his gaze to his lap and remained silent, his eyes fixed on his folded hands. Eyes narrowed in thought, Severus tried to think up something to distract him. There was no way that he would simply leave Harry to sit there like that, waiting for the summoning like some death-knell, and all while thoroughly depressed. After a moment, his eyes settled on a chess board sitting on a nearby bookshelf, and he turned back to Harry, "I don't imagine you'd be up for a game of chess...." he asked, and Harry laughed, shaking his head vigorously.

            "No, you'd beat me in three moves," he said, and Severus was glad that the pain had once again disappeared from his eyes, "You could tell me about the time Sirius gave you kitten ears," he offered with a wry grin, eyes twinkling with that familiar light. Severus snorted with surprise and laughed, for it was no mystery _who_ exactly had mentioned that particular incident to him.

            "Oh, he told you about that, did he?" he said, and Harry nodded, smiling in anticipation, "Alright...I suppose it wouldn't hurt, he'd undoubtedly tell you a warped version anyway."

            "_Definately_," Harry agreed.

            "Well, it was back in our sixth year...." 

****Flashback****

            The transfiguration classroom had always been a bit too bright for Severus' tastes, but today the morning light shining through the windows seemed to make the entire room glow. Or perhaps it was just the fact that everyone seemed far too cheerful for the morning, rather than sitting limply at the tables, minds and bodies reluctant to completely relinquish sleep. Severus cast the room an icy glare as he sat down in the far, back corner, eyeing the group of Gryffindors at the front of the room with particular distaste. The four boys were by far the most cheerful of the bunch, with even shy little Pettigrew looking bright and happy. Severus scowled even more deeply, this did not bode well....

            If the truth were to be told, Severus would have admitted that he wouldn't have cared less about Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew if he had a choice in the matter. Back in first year he'd been quite content to ignore everyone but those select few brave (or stupid) enough to approach him. But then Black had come up with the notion that Severus would be the perfect 'subject' for all of their newest pranks, and the war had begun. Now Severus wanted nothing more than to get the lot of them expelled, and he _would_ get them expelled, one way or another....

            "All right class, please turn to page 256 in your textbooks, I will partner you up momentarily," McGonagall said as she appeared from her office in the back of the room. To Severus' chagrin she looked just as cheerful as the rest of the class, and that was even worse than the Gryffindor Quadra being in such a mood. When McGonagall was happy, class tended to become very interesting, in a decidedly not-so-good way. With a resigned sigh, Severus flipped open his book and quickly read the required section, absorbing the information with much less enthusiasm than normal, even considering it wasn't normally much. They were going to be turning mittens into kittens, according to the book at least. It was supposed to be more challenging due to the fact that two objects (mittens) were to be transfigured into one (a kitten), but that wasn't what had Severus worried. What concerned him was the fact that McGonagall had mentioned the word 'partner,' and with her chipper mood, he had no doubt that the class was going to be a painful one, in one manner or another.

            The sound of many people shifting in their seats drew his attention back from his thoughts, and with a groan he noticed that everyone appeared to be finished with the reading. Why couldn't she just let them work alone? He wondered, already scowling around the room. "Alright class, close your books and get out your wands. I'll be setting you into pairs for practice," she said, and Severus grit his teeth as she started naming off the pairs, eyes darkening as each of the people he considered at least tolerable were marked off the list. His last hope was dashed when 'Evans, Lily' was paired with 'Creevey, Xander' and only he and one other person were left glaring at each other across the room. It was none other than Sirius Black, the most vicious of the Marauders.....oh yes indeed, the day was turning out quite well.

            Severus slammed his book shut and fixed a deadly glare on his face as the Gryffindor made his way across the room, a mischievous gleam shining within his bright blue eyes. The other boy sat down heavily and stared at him, as if daring him make one of his famously sarcastic remarks. Never one to do the expected, Severus merely returned the stare and clutched his wand tighter, not even glancing up when two pairs of mittens suddenly appeared on the table between them.

            "If you can set aside your misplaced ego for an hour Black, I believe we should join the rest of the class in getting to work," Severus snarled, drawing Sirius' away from his contemplation of a blonde girl seated across the room. With a derisive snort, Sirius waved his wand over his pair of mittens and snapped his wrist. There was a subtle 'pop,' and the mittens had instantly transformed into a tiny white kitten.

            "There. Work finished, ego appeased," Sirius said, his arms crossed proudly over his chest. Then he smiled his usual wicked smile at Severus and lifted his chin, "It should be fun watching you struggle to do that for the rest of the class," he said, and Severus growled darkly as he picked up his wand.

            "If you'd bother concentrating for a moment, Black, you'd notice that your kitten is _wearing_ a mitten. I'm quite sure that was not in the text," he replied, and was rewarded with a faint flush of embarrassment appearing on Sirius' cheeks as he realized that this indeed was true.

            "And what makes you think you can do any better?" he retorted once he'd regained his composure.

            "Merely the fact that I _can_ do better," Severus said, and with a graceful wave and flick of his wand, his own mittens were transformed into a perfectly normal gray kitten, which gave a tiny 'mew' of surprise. Severus smiled proudly to himself, infinitely glad that he'd bothered to practice over the winter break, "Have I survived your scrutiny, Black? Care to give it another try yourself? Or has my success finally cowed that superiority factor of yours?" he said, smirking at the glaring Gryffindor at his side.

            "You think _that's_ impressive, Snape? How about trying something a little harder?" Sirius taunted, and Severus narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

            "We have completed the assignment, Black. I have no intention of working with you any longer than is required," he growled, not daring to take his eyes off of the Marauder. Undoubtedly he was thinking up some plan or another to either embarrass him or get him in trouble...

            "Are you sure? Because I don't think you _can_ do anything harder than that," Sirius taunted, and Severus glared, lips drawing back from bared teeth. Mentally he cursed himself for allowing Black to get under his skin so easily, but his pride in his skill was definitely a tender subject.

            "Do not presume to know what I can and cannot do," he hissed, and Black laughed, twirling his wand boredly and arrogantly tossing his head back.

            "Who said that I was presu--" he began, but never finished the sentence. In the span of an instant, Severus had flicked his wand twice, effectively turning Sirius into a kitten and back again, all while McGonagall had her back turned to the class.

            "There. Now will you leave me alone?" he grumbled, eliciting another curious meow from the gray kitten. 

            "My turn!" Sirius yelled happily, and Severus whirled angrily.

            "Oh no you don't, I won't have you practicing on-" he began, but after a brief pop and a subtle itching sensation on his scalp, he paused mid-sentence, "-me," he finished, glaring at the boy who was laughing at him with tearing eyes. He knew what had happened, he could feel them sticking up through his hair. Black had gifted him with a pair of very feline ears, which were even now laid back across his scalp in anger, "I hate you," he growled, and Sirius just kept right on laughing.

            "Mr. Black! What do you think you're doing?!" McGonagall's voice suddenly rang out, and Severus cast her a miserable look, "Mr. Snape, to the hospital wing at once," she said in exasperation, casting an icy glare at Sirius even as Severus muttered a quick 'thank you' on his way to the door.

                        "_Meow_," Sirius called out suddenly, and Severus shut the door with a powerful 'bang,' studiously ignoring the roaring laughter of the class beyond the doors.

            "And that's twenty points from Gryffindor! Honestly, Mr. Black, I would have expected better from--" McGonagall began to yell once he'd left, but Severus only grumbled on his way down the hall. One of these days he'd get back at Black for all the times he'd embarrassed him....

***End Flashback***

            "I never did get revenge for that...." Severus said with a thoughtful sigh.

            "Well, Sirius will be here for a week or so longer...." Harry said, somehow managing to look completely innocent and conspiratorial at the same time.

            "Are you encouraging me to seek revenge on your godfather for a prank he pulled when we were sixteen?" Severus asked with feigned shock, mouth twitching with amusement.

            "Yes," Harry said, crossing his arms behind his head, blinking innocently.

            "Now I _know_ you're my son," Severus laughed, and Harry grinned.

            "Am I? And here I thought I was a Flitwick...." he said, tapping his chin in thought.

            "Oh yes, I can see the resemblance," Severus taunted, and they both broke down laughing at the imagery. If either was surprised at how easily the laughter came, neither on showed it. Only Harry took the time to note how truly transformed his father was by the emotion. With his dark eyes alight and mouth spread in a wide smile, evil was the last word to come to mind. This man was completely different from the one that Harry had been intimidated by back in first year, and even different from the snappish, nervous man who'd paced beside his hospital bed. This was a man he was proud to call his father.

            "You've changed....outside of class, I mean," Harry said, a half-smile still gracing his lips. Severus only smiled and ran a hand back through his hair, casting him a thoughtful gaze.

            "So have you. I seem to remember a time when you'd leap behind statues to get away from me," he said.

            "--and you'd take points from me for breathing," Harry continued, and Severus cracked a half-smile.

            "Well I can't very well take points from my own House now, can I?" he said, eyes twinkling with humor.

            "I like the new you," Harry smiled, crossing his arms across his chest. Severus didn't say anything, but rather watched the brightly smiling boy, enjoying the sharp flare of pride he felt as he looked at him. He couldn't even fathom how he'd ever managed to hate the boy that sat at his side, those past feeling seemed so distant now that he could almost imagine that they'd never existed. 

            A startled gasp drew him out of his thoughts, and his gaze instantly refocused on the dark-haired boy at his side. The muscles in Harry's jaws had suddenly gone tight, and his pale hands were even paler than normal as they clenched at the folds of his robe, nails digging into the dark material. His breathing was quickening and he was blinking rapidly, as if struggling to clear something away from his eyes.

            "Harry?" Severus asked, tentatively grasping his son's shoulder once again. Beneath his palm he could feel Harry shaking, all of his muscles tensed as he waged some internal battle.

            "He's...calling...." Harry gasped, suddenly clenching his eyes shut against a fresh wave of pain. Ice-cold panic flooded Severus veins in an instant, the calm he'd managed to find somehow disappearing into the depths of his stomach. Harry suddenly started trembling more violently, his breath coming in short, hissing jets.

            "Hold on Harry, just focus on my voice...." he said, quickly grasping Harry's other shoulder and turning him so that they were facing each other on the couch. Even as he struggled to help his son, he couldn't help but see those images in his mind once again. So many blank faces, empty eyes....lifeless and staring out of empty shells....Harry seated among them....

            "...hurts...he's closer...." Harry gasped quietly, his voice weakening. Even as Severus watched the color of Harry's eyes seemed to be fading, dulling as the life slowly bled away. In a wave of wide-eyed panic Severus jerked Harry into his arms, clutching him to his chest as if he could physically protect him from Voldemort's call. Surprisingly, Harry seemed instantly calmed, the violent shaking in his body reduced to a minor quiver.

            "Stay with me....you can fight it," Severus whispered, drawing his fingers through his son's long, dark hair. Harry took a shuddering breath, and suddenly fell limp in his arms, long fingers clutching weakly at the folds of his robes, "Is it over?" he asked, still drawing his fingers back through his son's hair.

            "I think so," Harry whispered, and Severus instantly released the breath he'd been holding. Harry still sounded incredibly weak, but he was no longer shaking or breathing quickly. He was sucking in slow, shuddering breaths, unconsciously pressing himself tighter into his father's arms.

            "Do you need to go to the hospital wing?" Severus asked, and Harry shook his head against his chest.

            "No, I'll be okay," he said, and Severus smiled at the top of his head. He was pretty sure that Harry wasn't completely okay, but if he didn't want to go to the hospital wing, then he'd just have to give him a potion or two instead. There was no way that he would let the boy out of his sight in anything near his current condition, "Thanks, Dad," Harry's soft voice suddenly called, and Severus froze, staring wide-eyed at the dark head nestled against his shoulder. All thought seemed to come to a crashing halt then, his mind blissfully blank in the wake of the soft voice speaking that one heartfelt word. He blinked in surprise, only then noticing the green-eyed gaze smiling up at him. Instantly he returned the smile, tightening his arms around the thin body held protectively against him.

            "You're welcome," he said, and Harry smiled wider, closing his eyes in obvious contentment. Severus really couldn't blame him for it either. If he could have, he would have danced among the stars for all the joy that one simple word had brought into his heart. 

-----end chapter 36------

Notes:: Okay! Okay! Since everybody asked, I promise to keep the hydra around. I like him too…I just tend to get really paranoid about new characters….And by some miracle I actually wrote a longer chapter….woohoo! I'm tired now….

**Next Chapter**-the lion, and Sirius get's surprised! This one should be fun….hehe…


	37. The Dragon Wakes

A Father's Sin 

By _Severitus_

**Chapter Dedicated to**—_Essence of Magic, Mayleesa_, and the _Unicorn Whisperer_.  Thank you VERY much for cheering me up, guys! *sniffle* You guys are the BEST!!  :::hugs all around:::

Chapter 37—The Dragon Wakes

Draco Malfoy was at a loss, something that seemed to have become more and more common in the weeks since Zachary Snape had come to Hogwarts. In some ways Zachary was very much the ideal Slytherin. He was dark, cunning, and powerful, even if he didn't choose to display that power. And then on the other hand, he also fraternized with Gryffindors, didn't seem to care a whit what people thought of him, and certainly didn't think like any proper pureblood should. But despite any of his faults, Zachary Snape had undoubtedly earned Draco's respect, and that wasn't an easy thing to do. What had demanded that respect was the fact that Zachary possessed practically tangible self assurance. Never once had Draco seen the boy waver in his ideals, never once had he seemed ashamed or embarrassed for acting out what he believed in, and that simple fact was driving Draco up the walls with frustration and mild jealously.

            Why couldn't he be so sure of himself? Why couldn't he find the courage to make decisions for himself, without constantly running to his father? Draco wouldn't fool himself by believing that _everything_ his father believed was right and true, he was only human after all, but he desperately needed the man's support. Draco wasn't strong like his father, wasn't a natural-born leader that could sway even the strongest with a few well-spoken words. No, _he_ had to _fight_ for what little control he had. He was weak. He wasn't smart enough to make his own decisions, not strong enough to enforce the decisions of others, and he had far too much pride to become a simple 'follower.' His father was strong, smart, and a natural leader. He knew what was best, or at least Draco thought so. 

            No matter what doubts may have always been circulating in the back of his mind, Zachary had been the one to finally force Draco to come to a realization. Zachary hadn't tried to get him to change his views; he hadn't tried to convince him to see things his way, as Draco himself had tried to do to the other boy. Rather, the talk they'd had not long ago had been a virtual slap to the face about another matter entirely. In had made Draco realize that he needed to grow up. He wouldn't always have his father around to make decisions for him or come to his rescue; he couldn't always run to the man with every little thing that came his way. No, sooner or later Draco was going to have to learn to look out for himself; and though Zachary hadn't said as much, it was about damn time that he started doing just that.

            With an audible groan, Draco propped his head in his hands and stared down at the open letter and tiny package on the table before him, the very reason he was having this argument with himself in the first place. His father had finally written him back, only not to provide him with any answers about the Potions Master's son. Oh, Draco had no doubt that the thing his father wanted him to do had _something_ to do with the longhaired Slytherin, but he hadn't been privileged to know exactly what. He didn't like it though, that was one thing he was absolutely sure of.

            It had never been a mystery that Lucius Malfoy had a plethora of social connections. The man knew at least one person inside of virtually every organization that existed in wizarding society. And it was through his connections within one of said organizations (namely, the Wizards Council) that he'd caught wind of an event to take place at Hogwarts that very day. The wards on the school were going to be rewoven, and that was the sole reason for which Lucius Malfoy had owled his son.

            Brows furrowed, Draco tore the string off of the tiny velvet lined box and stared at the contents within, his expression twisted with indecision. To the untrained eye, the tiny, perfectly oval onyx stone that rested on the crimson cloth looked nothing out of the ordinary. However, if one lifted it to the light as Draco did, the many twisted runes and archaic script nestled within the stone came to life, shining in menacing red against the perfect black. It was a Banishing Stone, and a very powerful one at that. Its sole purpose was to block and deflect virtually any spell cast within a certain area of the stone. The only drawback to the object was that it only protected inanimate objects. Had a person carried about the stone for protection, it wouldn't have done a thing. This particular stone worked on a thirty-foot radius, as it was one of the more powerful of it's kind. Banishing Stones really weren't that uncommon, as most homes and wizarding businesses tended to implement them in the protections around the building. Gringotts itself laid claim to an especially large banishing stone, one that prevented just about any spell from being cast inside of the structure. All one had to do was place the stone and say a simple phrase to activate it, and the deed was done.

            Rolling the stone in the palm of his hand, Draco squeezed it in his palm and read over the letter a fourth time, not really seeing the words carefully scripted for his eyes alone. His father wanted him to place the stone at Hogwart's border and activate it there before the Wizard's and Witches Dumbledore had summoned arrived to strengthen the wards around the school. Though the stone wouldn't affect any spells currently in place, when the new wards dissolved the old ones, the stone would create a thirty-foot gap in the barrier, more than enough to provide an entry for those who knew where to look. And the true glory of it all was that it could not be detected for one simple reason: a barrier spell's strength or weakness couldn't be detected until it had been threatened. Unless someone tried to break through the barrier, the fact that there was a thirty-foot hole in it would never be known. And there came the problem that Draco had with the whole idea.

            Draco _liked_ Hogwarts, no matter how much he complained of it to his fellow Slytherins. He was expected to chastise the place, what with Dumbledore being a Gryffindor and all…but it had never been genuine. All his life he'd been enchanted by stories of the magical castle, filled with its secret rooms and moving staircases. His mother and father had always regaled him with tales of daring escapes from the caretaker, dangerous adventures sneaking about the castle at night, the glory of claiming the House Cup….Was it even possible to hate such a place? Draco had loved it even before he had set the first foot inside the rickety old boat his first year, and gained his first glimpse of the ancient castle. And now that he was here himself, had made it his temporary home for the past five years, the very last thing on his mind was doing anything that could take that away from him. The fact that Dumbledore didn't allow the teaching of the Dark Arts was a small price to pay in his opinion. After all, his father and Professor Snape had both gone to Hogwarts beneath Dumbledore's rule, and _they_ were both experts on the subject. Who was to say that he himself couldn't do the same?

            And so Draco was left to make a rather difficult decision, one he'd known he'd eventually be asked to make.  He could either do as his father commanded and put the place he loved in danger, or he could stand up and refuse. 'What a perfect time to start making decisions for myself,' Draco thought dryly. This was one situation where he wasn't sure if either decision would be the right one. On the one hand, he could make his father proud and gain favor with the Dark Lord, but he'd be risking everything he'd known for the past five years, including the first real friend he'd ever felt he'd had. And then on the other hand, he would severely disappoint his father and the Dark Lord, and would undoubtedly lose what favor he held with many of the other Slytherins if they ever found out. Neither option was very appealing, and Draco was beginning to get a headache from thinking about it all.

                        The sound of a door opening from within one of the dorms snapped him out of his thoughts, and he hastily covered the letter with his copy of 'Quidditch Through the Ages,' and stashed both stone and box inside a robe pocket. Not a moment later and a familiar face appeared in the hallway entrance, black hair flying about his pale face as he strode quickly across the room. Eyes flicking briefly down toward the magazine and back up again, Draco turned in his chair toward the retreating figure.

            "Hey Zachary, wait up a minute!" he called, and Zachary stopped and turned, one hand reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from the unusual, jagged scar that marred the right portion of his forehead.

            "Yeah?" he asked, shifting the two books he cradled in one arm.

            "Are you busy right now?" Draco asked, and Zachary raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

            "Yes. Ron, Hermione and I are meeting to study for Transfiguration. Why?" he asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Draco bit back on a comment about Zachary's choice of study partners, and waved one hand toward the book set on the table before him.

            "I was just wondering if you were up for a game of Quidditch," he asked instead, and Zachary's bright green eyes seemed to nearly double in size. The boy blinked twice in obvious surprise, before allowing a subtle smile to cross his features.

            "Sure," he said, the smile widening a bit, "I'll meet you on the pitch in an hour?" he added as he turned back toward the common room's exit.

            "Alright," Draco agreed with a nod, and watched with a pleased smile as the stone door slid back into place. For some reason, he always seemed able to think better after a good game of Quidditch, and he definitely needed to be thinking clearly before he made his decision about the Banishing Stone. Then, after carefully concealing both letter and book within his robe, he sauntered off in search of Crabbe and Goyle. Those two could be dangerous if left without supervision for too long.

---------------------

                Everything was going according to plan...so far, at least. Harry and Ron were stationed inside the room, Lupin was next door in case things got...er..._too_ surprising, and Hermione was leading the unfortunate victim down the hallway, completely oblivious to his fate. Aside from the occasional snort of repressed excitement from Ron, the only sound was the two sets of footsteps down the hall and Hermione's quiet chatter. 

            "Hermione, what's this all about? I know you said you needed some help on an assignment, but why all the way out here?" Sirius asked as they approached the door, casting the energetic girl at his side a suspicious glance. It was just like Hermione to want some extra help on her Transfiguration essay, and since there really weren't too many animagi around he _was_ a sensible choice....but what was with all the secrecy? He had no doubt that she wanted help with something, but the further down the hallway they went the more suspicious he was becoming. Perhaps she'd decided to take on something more advanced than the curriculum, or perhaps she was dabbling in something dark, or perhaps--perhaps he was just worrying too much. Remus had noted the fact that recent events had really put him on edge, and now Sirius was inclined to agree.

            "It's quiet out here, and besides, this way we don't have to worry about you being seen," she answered with a bright smile as she steered him toward a closed door. He blinked in surprise, he hadn't really thought about that. Of course it made sense to be way out here. Had they gone to an empty classroom there was always the chance of being seen or overheard, but deep inside a guest wing that nobody knew existed there wouldn't be any risk at all. Merlin, he really _was_ on edge.... "Oops!" Hermione suddenly gasped, and Sirius noted that the strap on her backpack had suddenly snapped, sending her books to the hallway floor. Automatically he moved to help her but she waved him off, "You go on in and clear off a table, I'll be there in a moment," she said, and he shrugged and turned toward the door, wondering about her odd behavior. _Something's_ going on here, he thought, narrowing his eyes even as he began to turn the doorknob.            The door opened onto complete blackness, and he grumbled silently under his breath as he dug in his pocket for his wand, noticing far too late that not everything black was shadow. 

            A startled yelp was the only sound he made as something quick and heavy suddenly plowed into him, knocking him backwards onto something soft and airy. A pillow charm, his panicked brain supplied, even as something pink and wet suddenly darted forth from the shadow sitting atop him and promptly began licking his jaw. It tickled something fierce, and Sirius couldn't help but break out in laughter even as he struggled to shove the furry thing off of him. Whatever it was, however, seemed quite content to remain sitting atop his stomach, and relented only in drawing back the tickling tongue. It was then that Sirius finally was able to get a good look at his over-friendly attacker, and at first he gaped in shock. It was a lean, sleek wolf with a pair of very familiar brilliant green eyes, and it was undoubtedly smirking at him, pearly white teeth just visible between the black lips. Blinking again, Sirius stared closer at the beast sitting atop him, and noticed the odd marking just above the right eye….

            "H-Harry?!" he stuttered, and the wolf smiled even wider, letting out an affirmative 'wuff' before leaping off of his stomach. Sirius sat up and continued to stare, his brain finally processing the fact that the black lupine was, in fact, his godson. And only a second after that, the next little tidbit of information chose to sink in. "You're an Animagus!" Sirius exclaimed, his entire face lighting up with pride. Again the wolf rumbled in the affirmative. And then, not two seconds later, Harry stood before him on two legs once again, positively laughing his head off. Only then did Sirius come to realize the other two sets of laughter drifting from near by, and the fact that it had been going on for a while now.

            "Merlin, you should have seen your face!" Harry exclaimed once he'd regained some measure of control, and Sirius had to struggle to keep from laughing as well.

            "Incredible! Why didn't you say anything?" Sirius asked, accepting the hand Harry offered him and rising to his feet.

            "We wanted to surprise you," Hermione answered, walking up to stand next to him, her book bag once again in one piece.

            "And it was worth it, too!" Ron said, releasing the darkness charm he'd placed on the guest room.

            "Wait, so you've all been studying?" he asked, and then realized what a stupid question that was to be asking the intrepid three. Shaking his head at himself, he smiled even wider and laughed, "Wait, of course you all are! You three are like lemmings, always jumping into things together…." He said, and it seemed that Hermione was the only one who truly understood the comparison.

            "Lemmings…?" Ron asked, staring at Sirius warily. Hermione only shook her head at him in frustration, and Sirius ignored the stare completely.

            "Yeah, we thought it'd be a good skill to have," Harry said, and Sirius smiled again, although it was tainted with a bit of sorrow as memories arose, unbidden from the depths of his mind.

            "And we were kind of wondering if you could lend us a hand….," Ron said, looking slightly embarrassed about the question.

            "I'd be glad to," Sirius said, staring at the three with his chest swelling with pride. He couldn't help but grin as he watched them, happy memories of times long passed rising in his mind. The legacy of the Marauders had been passed. "Now then……where shall we start?" he said, cracking his knuckles and his eyes taking on a dangerous gleam that made them all immediately reconsider having decided to tell him. With a soft laugh, Sirius smirked as he watched the sudden change in their expressions. This was going to be fun….

---------------------------

            Draco was already there when Harry arrived on the Quidditch pitch, lingering between a state of fatigue and excitement. Sirius was a slave driver when it came to helping them with their Animagus training, and half the time Harry had been convinced that somehow or another he'd ended up in the army. He was infinitely glad when Sirius had made his excuses and slipped away, although he was slightly curious as to where his godfather had disappeared. Now though, he was exhausted, but still determined to get at least a short game of Quidditch in. It felt as if it had been ages since he'd flown on a broom, and he had never realized just how much he would miss Quidditch until he was no longer on the Gryffindor Team. Never mind that he'd lent Ron his Firebolt for the season, or that the old broom stashed under his arm was a Cleansweep 5, or that his opponent happened to be Draco, he was going to play _Quidditch!_

            Draco had been standing on the sidelines with his Nimbus 2002 slung over his shoulder, and now he sauntered toward the gate where Harry was making his entrance, struggling to smooth out some of the errant twigs on the school broom. "You look tired," Draco said shortly as they met up in the middle of the pitch, where the chest of Quidditch balls lay waiting patiently where Draco had set it up earlier. "That Mudblood want to run an all night study session or something?" Draco drawled, struggling to cover up the excitement he felt over the ensuing game with his trademark aloofness. 

            Harry's immediate reply was to whack him firmly on the head with his broom handle.

            "OW! What was that for?!" Draco exclaimed, clutching his head where the broom had struck it.

            "Kindly refrain from calling Hermione that while I'm around, please," Harry replied simply, his eyes narrowed. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, his expression brightened with a smile, "Quidditch?" he asked happily, and Draco blinked once before nodding.

            The game quickly became a real sight to see. It was a classic two man beater game, with Harry and Draco each trying to hit the two zooming bludgers at each other or through the hoops at either end of the field. In Harry's opinion, Draco was a much better Beater than he was a Seeker, but he wasn't about to say a word about it. Draco was quick on a broom, but he didn't have the skill to turn and dive as quickly as was necessary for a Seeker. Harry, on the other, hand, still lived up to Oliver Woods' comment that he'd make a damn fine Beater. He _was_ a damn fine Beater, too, he quickly noticed with surprise. It was almost as much fun to pelt the bludgers through the hoops as it was to take a racing dive after the snitch, and he currently had the upper hand in the game. 

            "Oh no you don't…." he heard Draco grumble as a bludger came sailing toward his head. A well aimed blow with the club sent it sailing back across the field and toward the hoops, where it promptly turned around and came sailing towards Harry. Rather than preparing to deflect the iron ball, he simply ducked down on his broom and allowed it sail on past, heading for Draco once again. "Hey!" the surprised blonde exclaimed, casting him an annoyed glare as he struggled to dodge the missile. Harry only laughed and flew closer to the hoops, awaiting the next opportunity to send a bludger flying through.

            The sound of a sharp whistle from below brought the game to a premature halt. The two bludgers immediately went sailing back down toward their chest, and Harry and Draco both looked to each other in surprise. Madam Hooch was standing down on the pitch, moving forward to collect to chest. They landed next to her a moment later, faces still lined with confusion.

            "What's going on?" Harry asked, handing over his club when she stuck out her hand for it.

            "Mr. Malfoy, Mr Snape," she said, nodding to them in brief greeting as she set about locking up the chest. "Everyone has been asked to come inside the castle. The wards on the school are about to be reset, and we'll not be taking any chances by having you all wandering about," she said, her amber eyes flashing with slight warning.

            "They're doing it _now_?!" Draco asked, suddenly looking just a bit panicked. Harry's own eyes grew large with surprise. In the day's excitement he'd completely forgotten that the wards were to be recast, and now he couldn't help the small smile of relief that crossed his features. 

            "Yes, they are. It's been far too long since the wards have been strengthened, and with recent events being what they are, it is a necessity. Normally it would be done over a break, but expediency is necessary in this instance," she said, hefting the box up in her arms as they began the trek off the pitch. "By the way, that was a very good game on both your parts. I don't believe I've ever seen you play before, Mr. Snape, though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by your talent for the game," she said, casting a bright smile in his direction. He blinked in surprise and looked at her curiously.

            "Um…why is that…?" he asked, and Draco looked as if he was curious as well. She looked briefly surprised by the question, but then shook it off and answered.

            "Considering how much your father enjoys his privacy, I'm not that surprised that he never told you. Severus was Seeker for the Slytherin Team for five years, he helped them win the House cup a fair number of times. He was a natural to the game, it's a real shame that he doesn't play anymore," she said with a sigh, and Harry and Draco exchanged a shocked look. Most likely they'd been sharing the same thought—Professor Snape on a broomstick, sailing after the snitch. It was an odd image, but one that nevertheless served to plant several ideas in Harry's head. It looked as if he now had something to add to the 'Things to Do Over the Summer' List. Challenge Dad to Quidditch match. Check.

            "Well you two hurry along now. Oh, and Zachary? I will be very disappointed if you don't try out for your House team next year," she said, after snatching the Cleansweep 5 from his grasp before gliding off around the side of the castle. He stared after her for a moment as they continued on up the castle steps, shaking his head in amusement. If only she knew, he thought, well remembering the look on her face when she found out about him making the team back in first year. With a shake of his head, he cleared it of the memory. 

            As they passed through the entrance hall, Harry's eyes landed immediately on the large group of wizards collected in the middle of the room, chattering away. Three of them he immediately recognized, though the rest were complete strangers. Lupin, Dumbledore, and Sirius (in canine form) were standing among the other wizards, looking slightly impatient for some reason or other. Harry didn't try to catch their attention, but kept walking toward the dungeon stairwell, with Draco looking as if he hadn't even seen the wizards at all.

            Draco remained oddly silent on the way back to the dungeons, he had one hand stuffed in his pocket and looked as if he was heavily debating something or other. Harry left him to his own thoughts and muttered the password when they reached the stone door, the dazed Slytherin following him blindly into the common room.

            "I'm going to go crash for a while, I'll see you later?" Harry said as he turned to go to his dorm room. Draco was standing before the fireplace, staring deeply into the low flames.

            "Yeah, I'll see you later. There's something I've got to do," he muttered, and Harry shrugged, continuing on his way down the hallway. As he walked, he narrowed his eyes in thought. Draco had been acting strangely distracted, and his reaction to Madam Hooch's explanation about the school wards had been unusual. Harry dearly hoped that Draco's reaction didn't have anything to do with the wards….

            Meanwhile, outside the school, the ten wizards stood evenly spaced along the border, eyes closed in concentration. Their lips began moving slowly, whispering a string of abstract Latin phrases that had not been uttered on the premises in far too long. Their arms were held out to their sides, pointing out along the school's border as energy began to crackle and hum between them. From windows all over the school children and staff alike stood to watch the display, eyes wide at the dazzling play of lights rising through the air. With each repetition of the chant, the colorful energy seemed to grow stronger, rising brighter as it began to build up in a dome like shape, rising high up over the turrets and towers of the school.  From one tiny dungeon window, a pair of bright green eyes watched the proceedings, face pale with nervousness and trepidation.

                        And also deep in the dungeons, a fire crackled sharply, throwing bright sparks and thick ash over the small black stone buried deep beneath the burning logs, abandoned to the heat and roiling flame.

-----End Chapter 37-----


	38. Beginnings of a Bad Day, part I

Notes:  Sorry this took so long, guys. But guess what? I've only got a week of school left! WHEEEEEE!!!!!  Oh, and this is just the first half of the chapter. It seemed like a good place to end it, and I figured I'd kept everyone waiting long enough. Therefore, you can expect part II to arrive in a day or so. (*gasp* impossible, you say!) Nay, 'tis Friday, and I've not got much else to do! ^_^;

A Father's Sin 

By _Severitus_

**Chapter 38**—Beginnings of a Bad Day, part I

            On one morning precisely a week later, Harry woke up feeling just a bit odd. He went through the usual routine; get up, get dressed, and studiously avoid his dorm mates, but the strange, almost tense feeling persisted. Nothing appeared to be different or wrong, and yet his mind insisted that something was, or would be very soon. And so, with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes, he made his way to the Great Hall for the first meal of the day, hoping to find at least some distraction in the morning gathering.

            By the time he stepped through the heavy oaken doors and took his first step into the room, he knew without a doubt that his hopes had been in vain. The feeling of 'wrongness' that had plagued him since waking seemed to permeate the room like a thick cloud, and he felt his muscles tensing as he glanced around. At first he couldn't figure out what was going on, but then his eyes settled on the one thing that almost everyone seated seemed to be doing. Everyone was scattered around various copies of the 'Daily Prophet,' and were either engrossed in perusing the material or were adamantly discussing it with their companions. Something big must have happened, he thought to himself as he crossed the room, and that something undoubtedly was the cause for the odd, anxious feeling he was suffering from. Quickening his pace, he dropped his book bag to the floor and slid into his usual seat beside Draco, noticing immediately that the blonde was also staring oddly at the paper, as if he was struggling to make sense of it. He didn't even look up at Harry's arrival.

            "What's so interesting in the Prophet this morning?" Harry asked, while dragging a few slices of bacon onto his plate. Startled, the other smoothed the paper out on the table between them, thrusting one finger at the feature article.

            "_That_. I can't figure out if I should laugh my head off or cancel my subscription," he said, and Harry blinked in confusion, drawing his eyes down to the article. Instantly, he froze, eyes widened as they landed on the headline, where his own 'true' name was displayed in bold, flashing script.

**Harry Potter: The New Dark Lord?**

****

By Tabitha Tiddle 

~As ridiculous as it may sound to some, the Ministry of Magic issued a statement today, proclaiming their belief that our beloved Harry Potter has become a Dark Wizard. Ever since Potter's disappearance a month ago, the Ministry has been desperately investigating the issue at hand. As was stated in an earlier press release, Potter disappeared without a trace, after apparently removing himself from school on the basis of a family emergency. To this reporter it seems rather odd that at the same time, rumors of the rising of the 'Serpent's Children' have been popping up all across Europe. The Ministry seems to agree, claiming that Harry Potter is, indeed, a Serpent's Child and a servant of You-Know-Who. If that is not enough to convince even Potter's most stalwart fans, then there is plenty more where that came from. Just today, the Ministry released quite a few facts regarding Potter that until now, were deemed too 'controversial' for the public ear. According to Minister Fudge, Potter not only shares the Dark Lord's ability to speak Parseltongue, but also suffers from visions of You-Know-Who and his Deatheaters. Apparently, the two even possess twin wands. The Minister also hinted that Potter may have had a hand in the escape of the wanted murderer, Sirius Black, and of the death of Cedric Diggory. The whereabouts of Potter are still unknown, though Minister Fudge informed us that a search of Hogwarts School has already been performed, and that they have several remaining leads to look into.~

            All thought of breakfast was immediately forgotten. Struggling to regain control of his shocked expression, he blinked and shook his head, though he was unable to tear his gaze away from the blaring headline.

            "Quite a shocker, eh? Personally, I think it's all crap. The day Potter goes dark I'll transfer to Hufflepuff!" Draco declared, and Harry found himself to be strangely relieved that at least his sworn enemy knew better than to trust Fudge. Although, he found himself desperately hoping that Draco wasn't the only one, as it would be too strangely ironic if a wanna-be dark wizard was the only one who believed he hadn't gone dark.

            "Yeah, as far as I'm concerned, Fudge is an idiot," Harry offered, and was preparing to slip from the table when a lone owl suddenly flew down from the ceiling, it's dark feathers glinting brightly in the morning light. Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry noticed Draco suddenly turn a shade paler. Then, when the owl swooped down and dropped a reddish scroll atop Draco's head, he understood just why Draco's eyes had suddenly taken on the appearance of a frightened lamb. It was a Howler.

            Harry had barely blinked once before the blonde had disappeared from the table at a mad dash, and only barely caught sight of the hall doors slamming shut behind him. A few Gryffindors laughed at the display, and at the sound of muffled yelling coming from the hall a moment later, but most were still too preoccupied with the paper to have noticed anything. Therefore, Harry took that moment to slip silently out a side door, determined to put as much distance as he could between that newspaper article and himself. Almost unconsciously he started back toward the dungeons, nursing a fragile hope that perhaps his father was lurking about somewhere.

            However, even with the day's events so far, things proved that he was indeed in for one hell of a day when he heard several sets of heavy footsteps follow him down a rarely used corridor. At the end of the corridor was one of the many staircases that connected the castle's upper levels to the dungeons, but there weren't any rooms or other exits from the short hallway. The footsteps quickened, and his hand nervously fell to the wand in his pocket, fingers wrapping around the smooth wood. Quickening his own pace, he silently cursed when he heard the footsteps break into a run.

            Suddenly, something latched onto his robe and jerked him backward, someone's rough hands tossing him against the wall, his shoulders connecting painfully with the stone and sending his books crashing to the floor. Before he had the chance to even think about pulling out his wand, two sets of hands latched onto his arms and slammed him against the wall a second time, pinning him firmly in place and knocking his head roughly against the sharp stone. Setting his face into the harshest glare he could muster despite the sharp pain at the back of his head, he found himself staring down five strange seventh years. One was a Ravenclaw, while the other four were equally composed of Gryffindor and, surprisingly, Hufflepuff.

"Oh look, the little Snake is all alone today," a dark haired Gryffindor, who he vaguely remembered being named 'Timothy,' taunted as he stepped in front of him, arms crossed dutifully.

"How observant of you, now if you'll excuse me-" Harry began, and struggled unsuccessfully to jerk free of the restraining arms. Sometimes he really hated being thin, muscle did have its uses after all.

"I think not. We want to have a few words with you, Snape," the Hufflepuff pinning his right arm said, though it wasn't nearly as intimidating as it was intended to be.

"Oh?" Harry asked, raising one eyebrow in mock curiosity. His captors only stared back angrily.

"We're sure you've seen the morning paper, I doubt someone like you could pass up on the front page," Timothy spat, stepping forward to stand directly in front of him. Despite the fact that Harry was one of the taller boys in his year, Timothy virtually towered over him, his shadow blocking out most of the dim light.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything," Harry growled, and Timothy cocked a lopsided smile, his eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms, absently tapping his wand against one (large) bicep.

"We know you're up to something. We've been watching you, you know," the Ravenclaw suddenly spoke up, stepping forward to stand next to his ally. Harry had never met the boy before, but the impression he got at first glance was that the boy really looked like some sort of rodent. His eyes were tiny and narrowed, with a sharply pointed nose that wouldn't have looked at all strange if it had been accompanied by a set of whiskers. "First, you show up out of the blue and make fast friends with Harry Potter himself, hang out with his friends, hit it off perfectly with all the teachers—and then Harry up and disappears without a trace. We think that it's more than a little suspicious…." The boy continued, crossing his arms in an attempt to look menacing, despite his considerably shorter stature.

"And…?" Harry said boredly, though he could feel his own fear rising considerably in the back of his mind. His eyes kept flicking toward one end of the hall and the other, hoping desperately that someone would stumble along before he got beaten up too badly.

"And we know you and your Death Eater father have something to do with it, maybe even that Malfoy brat too," Timothy finished, lips curling back from gritted teeth. Harry bared his own teeth in response, his rising panic and fear igniting his anger.

"And I think you're a fool with a grudge against Slytherin that has far too much time on his hands," he growled, watching Timothy's startled expression with no little amount of satisfaction. "Real Gryffindor of you, you know. Whatever happened to the 'chivalry' your house is supposed to be so famous for?" he spat, and Timothy's face flushed crimson, his eyes growing wild with anger. _Oh damn_, Harry thought, _perhaps making that last comment wasn't the brightest idea_….

"As if you'd know, Snake. Why, I bet the moment we leave you'll go running off to your father…." The Ravenclaw taunted, and Harry thought for sure that he'd felt his own face turn red with fury. Only vaguely did he realize that the hallway had suddenly gotten just a little bit darker, but his mind chose to ignore it, focusing instead on the jeering five surrounding him.

"And _when_ have you ever seen me do that? For someone who's supposedly 'watching' me, you sure haven't been very observant!" he barked, jerking forward against the hands that still restrained him.

"And what, may I ask, is going on here?" a deep, and thankfully familiar voice suddenly rumbled from nearby, and everyone instantly froze. For there, towering over Timothy himself and wearing the darkest expression Harry had seen in a long time, was Professor Snape.

"N-nothing, Sir-," Timothy stuttered, and the restraining hands dropped out of sight. Instantly they all wore the expressions of the perfectly innocent students, having done nothing at all despite having been caught in the act. Harry only rubbed the back of his head with a wince and watched with amusement as his father bore down on them, having suddenly discovered yet another perk to having the infamous Potions master for a father.

"Really? It looks like _something_ to me," Snape hissed, his arms crossed and long fingers tapping against his arm in irritation. His eyes were flashing darkly, looking very much like a predator staring down its prey. "In fact, it looks to me as if you were harassing _my son_ in a dark hallway. Dare I even _begin_ to guess as to what you had in mind?"

"We were just heading to the d-dorms, sir," stuttered one of the Hufflepuffs, now huddling, terrified, against the wall. Harry snorted and crossed his arms, turning his head away from the pitiful sight. His pride felt considerably crushed that the frightened boy beside him had only moments before had him pinned to a wall. Of course, the fact that he himself used to be terrified of the Potions master served to make it at least a little better.

"Then I feel I must enlighten you to the fact that the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff dorms are _that_ way? Surely, after seven years even your dimwitted lot would realize that," Snape growled, his lips curving into a faint, malicious smile. He took another slow, silent step forward, causing the five the retreat further.

"M-must have got turned around, Sir, w-we'll be on our way…." Timothy said, and they immediately began backing up quickly, preparing to whirl around and make a mad dash for the exit.

"Oh no you don't," Snape hissed, and to Harry it looked as if he'd frozen the lot with his stare alone. "I expect to see you all in my office as 5 o'clock _sharp_. We're going to have a delightful little meeting with your House Heads to discuss this…_incident_," he spat, then uncrossed his arms and waved one hand in the air dismissively, "Also, fifty points shall be taken from _each_ of you. Well? What are you all standing around for? _GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!_" he roared, startling them so badly that a Hufflepuff and the Ravenclaw fell to the ground, before madly scrambling to their feet before dashing off. Snape stared after them with a pleased smile on his face, looking for the entire world as if he'd just gotten his birthday wish.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you," Harry commented as he pushed away from the wall, rubbing his left shoulder absently where it had connected with the wall. His father widened the smile and looked at him out of the corner of his eyes, one hand raised to his chin in thought.

"Why yes, I do believe I did," he said, and turned to face him fully, the smile slowly fading into a look of concern. "Now, what was that all about?" he asked, and Harry waved one hand idly as he bent to pick up his fallen books.

"Oh, they were just accusing me of having something to do with my own disappearance," he muttered in reply, avoiding his father's curious gaze as the man bent to help him retrieve his things.

"You saw today's Prophet then?" he asked, one hand closing over a particularly ragged looking old book.

"Yeah. It looks like I'm officially a Dark Lord now," Harry said with a laugh, turning a bright gaze to his father's darker one.

"They're up to something, there's no doubt about that," Snape commented darkly as he rose from the floor, staring at the book with narrowed eyes, "Where did you get this?" he asked in an odd voice.

"That? Dumbledore gave it to me the last time I was in the Hospital Wing. It's just a collection of short stories, but I really like a few of them," Harry replied as he stood up, having shoved the last of his books back inside his bag. His father narrowed his eyes again as he glanced at it, turning it over in his hands before handing it back. Then he shook his head as if to clear it of a thought and looked up again, his expression no less serious yet lightened considerably.

"Would you come down to my office after dinner tonight? There are a few things I'd like to talk to you about," he asked as Harry took the book.

"Sure," Harry replied, blinking in confusion, "Nothing's…_happened_, has it?" he asked, eyes widening with worry. The day was already bad enough as it was, there couldn't possibly be more, could there?

"No, not _yet_ anyway," Snape answered with a sigh, "And I fully expect you to tell me everything that happened just now, as well. For the moment though, I believe you have a class starting soon, yes?"

"Yeah, Transfiguration. I'll see you in class later then?" Harry said, shrugging his book bag up across his shoulder.

"Alright. But I don't want you taking any more shortcuts like this until we've had that talk," he said sternly, leveling a purposeful glare at his son. Harry hung his head with a sigh, but nodded in agreement. He didn't really feel like chancing any more dark, empty hallways at the moment anyway. One brush with the wrong side of a fist was more than enough for the day. After checking his watch and heading in the opposite direction of his father, he quickened his face and smiled lightly. He _really_ wanted to know what his father had in store for his five attackers….

----------end 38 part I---------------

Notes:: I'm not real happy with the way this turned out…but I couldn't figure out any other way to do it. : (  Again, sorry this took so long, but the next half will be out in a day or so.

Next Chapter—Harry, Ron and Hermione get dragged off to the Slytherin Quidditch practice, Sev has something to discuss with Dumbledore, and takes a step in the direction of the overprotective parent. TaTa!


	39. Beginnings of a Bad Day, part II

**VERY IMPORTANT NOTES:** For anyone with my old email address, it will no longer function as of this Friday, the 16th of August. In other words, messages sent there will never again see the light of day. PLEASE send any email to my new address which is linked in my profile. Thanks!

Notes2: In other news, I'm sorry it's taking me so long to get chapters out. There really isn't a whole lot of this story left, and I'm sort of paranoid that I'm going to forget something! By my predictions, this will probably end up being about 47 or so chapters.

A Father's Sin 

By _Severitus_

**Chapter 39**-Beginings of a Bad Day II

**Chapter dedicated to _Voydag,_ Happy Belated Birthday!**

The day seemed to go by in a daze for Harry. Transfiguration was a blur, and Care of Magical Creatures hadn't fared much better (even with Talon hissing insults as the class was paired up and forced to lead him about by a leash). In fact, Harry couldn't even remember what the lectures in Divination and History of Magic had been, and would have wondered if he'd even gone to class had it not been for the notes he'd somehow managed to take in his stupor. The fact was, he was hopelessly distracted, and things weren't looking to get any better.

Everywhere he went people were talking about the newspaper article, and most of it was anything but good. Most of the students seemed to place an infinite amount of faith in the Minister of Magic, and out of the entire school, the Gryffindors seemed to be the most vocal about it. In but a few short hours he'd heard more negative comments and theories about both of his personas than he ever had in his life (excepting the Dursleys, of course). It seemed that Timothy and his gang had taken the liberty of spreading their suspicions around among their year-mates, and now Harry had to endure not only listening to people whispering about 'Harry Potter' going dark, but also about 'Zachary Snape' having a hand in it all. More than once while wandering down the halls he'd heard hushed whispers of—

"I can't believe Potter was in Gryffindor…he probably really is the heir of Slytherin, and was waiting for the right moment to attack!"

and-

"Zachary Snape? Yeah, I've met him. He hardly says a word, real suspicious if you ask me…You saw him hanging out with Potter, they were probably plotting something until Potter got found out…."

But the very worst of it all were the stares. Although it was mostly just the older students, it still felt as if eyes were watching him wherever he went, waiting for him to do something 'dark.' Even Fred and George Weasley had resorted to glaring at him, and that stung the very worst of all. His former friends, housemates, and one-time rescuers seemed to hate him with the same passion as Voldemort. Harry couldn't believe that so many people were against him because of his name and his House, and that so many more had so easily believed a simple newspaper article. Feeling disgusted, he began to wonder how many times he himself had been sucked in by such nonsense. After all, his own father was hardly the evil dungeon-bat that he presented himself as in class, and Malfoy too wasn't nearly as horrible a person when you weren't his enemy.

What perhaps surprised Harry the most of all though, was the almost complete silence on the matter by the Slytherins. A few had laughed at the article, but beyond that not a word had been said for the better or the worse. It seemed that they, for one reason or another, all agreed on the fact that the Minister of Magic was a sniveling, brainless twerp, and that anyone who believed differently was obviously a fool. Harry was faintly sickened by the realization that he was in complete agreement with the assessment, and was actually thankful that he at least wouldn't have to put up with persecution by his dorm-mates on any of the matters at hand. After the first few weeks of school most of them had wisely decided to simply leave him alone, and nothing had changed since. With a grimace, Harry began to wonder if perhaps he really _did_ belong in Slytherin….

With the combination of the article and the attitudes of the other students, Harry could do nothing more than wander blindly from class to class, far too distracted to even bother snarling back a reply when someone got brave enough to throw an insult his way. It was if he was stuck in a daze, possessing enough sense to follow the normal routine, but not enough to be conscious of what exactly he was doing. It went on that way until just after the last class of the day, when his daze-like state sent him walking straight into someone in the main hallway.

"_Zachary!_" a familiar voice cried as he picked himself up off the floor, and he blinked in surprise at the brown-eyed face staring up at him with the faintest bit of indignation.

"Oh, hey 'Mione, sorry about that," he muttered as he helped her up from the floor, and looked up in time to see Ron stepping up behind her.

"We've been looking all over for you, mate! Where've you been?" Ron asked, dropping his overstuffed book bag to the floor. (Sirius was making him read a bunch of books on Transfiguration, claiming that it would help him with his Animagus transformation, though Harry thought Sirius had done it just to see the horrified look on Ron's face)

"Um…" Harry began, but Hermione cut him off, dropping her own bag to the floor with a loud 'bang.'

"Have you _heard_ all the wild rumors going around? _Everyone's_ been talking about that article! They all think that yo—er—_Harry_ is some sort of Dark Wizard! It's horrible!" she stuttered, and turned to glare at a pack of passing sixth years that she'd obviously overheard at some point.

"Yeah, I've heard," Harry mumbled, his mouth twisting down into a bitter frown, "No one's even considered the fact that it could be, and obviously _is_ a set-up," he growled, and both Hermione and Ron cast him sympathetic looks, both all too aware of how much Harry hated any attention at all, especially when it was something like this.

"Hey Zack!" a voice suddenly sounded from just behind him, and Harry had barely time enough to attach a name to it before the blonde blur had latched onto his arm and began dragging him towards the nearest exit. Harry briefly caught sight of Ron and Hermione trailing after them before he found himself outside, being pulled speedily towards the Quidditch pitch.

"Draco? Would you mind telling me where you're dragging me off to?" he asked calmly, barely managing not the stumble on a thick clump of grass.

"The Quidditch Pitch! Where else? I had Madam Hooch talk to the team captain and he put you down as a reserve Beater! You don't have to practice with us all the time, but he wants you here in case something happens to one of the Beaters," Draco said quickly, and Harry finally managed to wrest himself from the blonde boy's grip as they crossed onto the pitch.

"You _what_!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening as they focused on the group of emerald-clad Slytherins flying about by the nearest set of hoops.

"Just go up to the stands and watch this time, I'll see you in an hour!" Draco said as he snatched his broom up from the edge of the field and took off, not even glancing back once. Harry stood there blinking for a moment, pretty sure that he looked ridiculous with his mouth hanging open as it was. For the moment though, he didn't really care. This whole 'friendship' thing with Draco was definitely getting a bit out of hand!

"Hey! What was _that_ about?" Ron puffed as he and Hermione suddenly came up beside him, both gasping for breath.

"He put me on the Quidditch Team. I'm a reserve Beater, apparently," Harry replied with a glazed expression, still too stunned by the random turn of events to tear his gaze away from vacant space.

"He…_what!_ That's just…well…I don't know what it is," Ron stuttered, while Hermione only blinked once in surprise, before smiling brightly at him.

"That's great Harry! Now you can play Quidditch again!" she exclaimed, her excitement managing to break him from some of his stupor.

"But '_Mione_, this is the _Slytherin_ Quidditch team!" Ron complained, and Hermione huffed, straightening her bag on her shoulder.

"That shouldn't matter, it's still a game. And I know you've missed Quidditch, haven't you Harry," she said, leveling a stern gaze at them both.

"Yeah," he managed to reply, and with a shake of his head, struggled to throw off the last bit of surprise. "Listen, I guess I'm supposed to watch the practice, so…" He began uncertainly, and Hermione got the hint.

"Oh! That's all right Harry; if you want us to stay we'd be happy too. If we get bored we can always work on homework," she said, and at Ron's groan of protest at the latter added, "and _Ron_ can spy on the team for tactics," Ron instantly brightened at that, and without further ado, they began the long trek up the nearest set of stairs.

Shortly after they were all settled for the show high in the Hufflepuff stands, a high-pitched whistle sounded and a makeshift game began. It didn't take long before both Ron and Harry had to admit that Slytherin had a better team this year than in previous ones. Their keeper seemed a bit weak (at which Ron grinned with smug satisfaction), and Draco was having a few troubles finding the snitch, but aside from that they had a pretty strong team. Their Chasers had exceptional aim, pulling off several unusual maneuvers to send the Quaffle through the hoop, while the Beaters looked to be having a grand time sending the Bludgers flying across the field.

"Bugger, Gryffindor's going to have a challenge this year," Ron muttered, his arms crossed as he studied the swerving blurs of green.

"Slytherin's a challenge _every_ year. They usually play pretty dirty," Harry muttered absently, cringing as two chasers plowed into each other in a fight for possession of the Quaffle.

Hermione only rolled her eyes as they continued to discuss Quidditch, and turned her gaze out towards Hagrid's hut off in the distance, where Fang was romping about happily in the grass. She was about to turn away again and fetch a book from her bag when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Squinting, she focused her eyes on the distant line of trees and caught sight of what had attracted her attention. Off in the forest, just within the line of trees, a lone figure was walking slowly along the border, their grayish robe oddly visible from within the dark range of trees. It didn't look like it had any destination in particular, but something about the stranger sent a shiver down her spine. Turning to Ron and Harry, she considered telling them about it, but bit her lip before muttering a word. They were both having fun, Harry looking happier than he had in a long while as they laughed and pointed out moves the Quidditch team performed, both smiling broadly. Shaking her head, she pushed the matter to the back of her mind and turned to her book bag, determined to read ahead for Charms.

-------------

It was a very grumpy Potions master that made his way toward the Headmaster's office the instant the last class of the day came to an end. With his robes flying behind his thin frame, it almost seemed as if his anger had taken a physical form as he charged up the rotating staircase, far angrier than he had ever been with the Headmaster. Not even bothering to knock, he plowed through the open doorway and swept into the room, not stopping until he stood with his hands splayed firmly atop Dumbledore's desk. As usual, the Headmaster wasn't the least bit put off by the younger wizard's enraged display, and simply glanced up, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"You gave _Harry_ the book," Severus stated darkly, eyes fixed unblinkingly on Dumbledore's own, "You gave _my son_, Slytherin's book. The very book, might I add, that could _put him in Voldemort's complete control!"_ he yelled, and Albus sat back in his chair, hands laced calmly across his chest.

"In a way, yes, I suppose you could say that I did," he replied calmly, and Severus' face flushed red.

"Then may I ask what the _hell_ you were thinking!" he roared, and yet again Albus continued to watch on calmly, as if having an irate Potions master screaming in his face was a commonplace thing.

"I was thinking that a Death Eater's son would be the last person Voldemort would ever expect to have his book," he replied calmly, "My office and the schools library would be two of the very first places to be searched were the castle to be breached," he said, his icy blue gaze still fixed on Severus' angry black gaze.

"That book is dangerous Albus! What if it has some sort of—_effect_ on--" Severus continued desperately, but the older wizard only waved it off with one hand, his eyes filled with a strange sort of understanding.

"It is harmless at the moment, Severus. It is only dangerous when in its true form, which it is not," he said, and Severus drew back from the desk, eyes widening in disbelief.

"Forgive me, Albus, but do you expect me to believe that turning it into a storybook has made one of the most powerful dark magic books in the history of the world _harmless_!" he exclaimed, his entire face screwed up in shock and confusion. Dumbledore only smiled vaguely, and leaned forward onto his desk, his wrinkled hands laced on top of a pile of papers.

"Yes, actually," he replied, and paused a moment to adjust his glasses, "As is a little known law of transfiguration, when an object is transformed, not only are its physical aspects changed, but also are its magical. At the moment the book possesses no more magic than a storybook, as it is, in fact, a storybook," he said, and Severus blinked in surprise. Truth be told, he'd almost forgotten that Dumbledore had once been a Transfiguration professor, and was as much a master of the subject as Severus himself was of Potions.

"Then why did my mark burn when I touched it? If the magical power of the book was transformed, it should not have reacted!" Severus continued, though much of his anger was beginning to drain away in Dumbledore's calming presence.

"That is a different matter, Severus. The magic signature that Voldemort placed on the book is not a part of the book's magic. It is merely a fragment of magic attached to, yet unaffected by any spells directed at the book itself, rather like a candle flame on a birthday cake," he explained, and Severus blinked again. With a resigned shake of his head, he sunk down into one of the chairs before the desk. In all the world only Albus Dumbledore would ever think of comparing the Slytherin's life's work to a birthday cake.

"Fine. I understand that. But _why_ didn't you just _hide_ the book somewhere? Surely there are more than enough secret rooms and compartments…" Severus pleaded, one hand raised to knead a throbbing temple. Finally seeming to become a bit exasperated himself, the Headmaster sighed and leaned back in his chair once again, the bright candlelight reflecting in his square glasses.

"That is due to another one of Slytherin's tricks. If the book is not in the possession of someone living, then the book will transport itself back into the Chamber of Secrets. There is magic enough inside the Chamber to then summon Slytherin's heir. That is how Tom Riddle found the Chamber _and_ the book. Slytherin made sure that his life's achievements would not be lost to time and dust," Dumbledore explained, and Severus sighed himself. As usual, the Headmaster seemed to be right.

"And so you gave it to Harry," he growled dully, and the Headmaster laughed, his face lighting up with a mischievous smile.

"Yes, I thought it was quite a clever idea," he said, snatching up a lemon drop from a nearby dish.

"You are a bit mad, you do realize that, Albus," Severus mumbled, staring at the pleased old wizard with half-closed eyes. Dumbledore drew back in surprise, one hand to his chest in a mock-offended gesture.

"Only a bit? How disappointing! I must put in more of an effort, then!"

------------

With the end of Quidditch practice came a stiff greeting by the retreating Quidditch team, most pausing to level suspicious glares at Hermione and Ron as they struggled to disappear into the background. Jonathan Bradley, the Slytherin team's current captain, had wasted no time in informing 'Zachary' that he would be expected to fly next practice, and despite the fact that he would not always be participating, he would have to attend every practice session unless he wanted a one-way ticket off the team. Grudgingly, Harry nodded respectfully, trying to ignore the beaming Draco who was obviously pleased with himself.

By the time that practice was over and dinner had been eaten in the Great Hall, Harry desired to do nothing more than fall atop his bed and forget the world existed. Everything that had happened during the day, from nearly getting beaten up, to avoiding glares left and right, to somehow ending up as a Slytherin Beater, was far more than he could take in one day. At the moment, sleep was by far the sweetest word in the dictionary; but he still had a promise to keep. And it was that promise that found him walking tiredly down a dungeon hallway, past the Potions classroom, until finally reaching the wooden door to his father's office. A faint flickering of light escaped from beneath the door, and if Harry strained his ears hard enough, he could hear the faintest sound of a scratching quill, most likely bestowing abysmal grades upon parchments that deserved better.

Sucking in a deep breath to try and bring his attention back to the moment, he reached forward and knocked on the door. At the gruff reply, he eased the door open and closed again before settling into one of the two ancient chairs set before messy desk. Indeed, his father was busied grading papers, a steadily growing pile set off to one side, the majority of which were covered in tiny, scathing notes in vivid red ink. Cracking an amused smile, he stared silently at the man bent over another such parchment, scribbling something on the last inch of some unfortunate's hard work. After one final, brutal stroke, he dropped the quill into a nearby ink jar and sat back with a sigh, his own face lined and weary after what had been an obviously long day.

"You can tell Miss Granger that she got a B on the last essay," he said, and Harry blinked in surprise.

"A 'B'?" Harry stuttered, unable to stop the small, amused smile that curved his lips. Poor Hermione had worked for hours on that essay, and had finally ended up writing twice the required length, in her smallest print.

"She went off topic," was the explanation, and Harry nodded. "Would you mind if we took this to my rooms? If I have to stare at one more of these essays I fear I shall go mad," his father said tiredly, dark eyes shining with a hint of desperation.

"Sure," Harry laughed, and followed the taller man as he fled quickly out the door, the candles within the room going dark as it closed behind them. The trip from office to chambers was a short one, but nevertheless it granted Harry just enough time to see the faintly troubled expression flash briefly across his father's face. It was there and gone in a second, but it was more than enough to spark Harry's own worry and ignite his curiosity. Severus Snape was not a man to be troubled by idle things, anyone who'd ever met the man would have been able to say as much. It took something truly worth worrying over to put the man in such a mood himself.

Once inside, the older wizard shed his outer cloak across the back of a chair and promptly collapsed back into that selfsame chair. Now dressed in a pair of simple black slacks, an old fashioned white shirt, button up vest, and a pair of impeccably shined boots, Harry doubted even the first years would have found him too threatening if they'd seen him. With more than a little amusement, Harry wondered if the robes were specially charmed to make the man appear more threatening than he actually was. As he took his own seat on the nearby couch, he decided that that was a question best left for later.

"So I take it you've had a long day?" Harry asked as he sat back into the couch, his eyes focused on the man who had his head leaned back and his eyes closed in contentment.

"Oh yes, there is simply nothing more exhausting than arguing with the combined forces of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. You'd be surprised how venomous Sprout and Flitwick can be when they feel threatened," he replied, his mouth twisted into an expression that could only be described as wicked.

"What about Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked, eyebrows downcast with confusion. He'd thought that his father had been talking about the supposed meeting with the other House Heads regarding the incident that morning. Picking his head up from the back of the chair, Snape cast him a vague expression of disbelief, though it was also tainted with amusement.

"Surprisingly, she was in agreement with me, which took everyone by surprise, I'm sure," he said, one eyebrow raised at the memory, "I believe she is quite fond of you," he added, and Harry couldn't blame him for his surprise. After all, it wasn't every day that a Gryffindor and a Slytherin got along, let alone their Heads of Houses.

"Yeah, I got that impression as well. A bit ironic though, definitely," Harry said with a laugh, well remembering the way McGonagall had behaved toward him since acquiring his new identity.

"So, did you have any more trouble today?" his father asked, his amused expression quickly fading into a curious one. Harry sighed and shook his head, remembering that he was still supposed to tell his father all about the morning's incident.

"Not really. A few comments here and there, but that was all," he said, resigned to the question he could practically feel coming.

"So what _did_ happen this morning?" the older wizard predictably asked, his dark hair falling about his face as he propped his chin on his fist, gaze attentive. Harry sighed and explained as well as his could, though not entirely understanding what good explaining it all would do. There would undoubtedly be others with the same ideas sooner or later.

"Something else is bothering you," his father asked once he'd finished, his eyes focused in that intense, unwavering fashion that always managed to send Neville Longbottom into a nervous fit, even when it wasn't focused on him directly.

"It's nothing," Harry muttered, struggling to tear his gaze away, only to find the task nearly impossible. Snape was sitting perfectly still, chin propped on his fist and black eyes opened and unblinking, all in all looking very much like a statue. With a small groan, Harry slumped his shoulders and gave in, barely noticing the tiny, triumphant smile that crossed the other man's face, "It's just that…people that I used to be my friends hate me now. It's a little hard to deal with, is all," he explained, deciding on using as few words as possible. It wasn't something he wanted to discuss with anyone at the moment. And besides, there wasn't anything to be done about it. It was an issue that he was going to have to learn to live with, whether he wanted to or not.

"Try not to think on it too much, Harry. They are fools for judging you to be someone you are not," his father offered after a moment, the deep voice tinged with a hint of pain that Harry could only guess at the cause of. Though the man's eyes were still focused on him as before, now they'd softened a little, a Harry gave a small smile in reply.

"Yeah, I guess so," he muttered, dropping his gaze down to his feet. Across from him, his father raised his head from his hand and shifted back in the chair, a small frown crossing his lips.

"Trust me, Harry. Things will get better soon. The novelty of this morning's article will wear off, and they will remember that they have better things to do. Either that, or they'll learn from example," he said, the frown momentarily shifting into a satisfied smirk. Harry blinked and narrowed his eyes, shifting to watch the other out of the corner of his eyes.

"Would that have something to do with those boys who attacked me this morning…?" he asked, crossing his arms lightly. His father only smirked wider.

"Well, just rest assured that you needn't worry about _them_ for a while," he answered, the smirk widening into a brief, malicious grin.

"What did you do…?" Harry asked, struggling to hold in a laugh at the pleased expression on the other wizard's face.

"Oh, let's just say that they are getting their due in punishment," he teased, crossing his arms back behind his head. Harry leveled an expectant stare at him, tapping one foot impatiently on the floor. With a roll of his eyes, his father finally gave in, "Let me see…First, they'll be cleaning the Owlry floor with toothbrushes, disposing of rotten potions ingredients by hand (let's hope they remember which ones are volatile), and finally, they'll be helping Professor Sprout prune the Whomping Willow," he said, and Harry gaped at him in shock.

"Wow…I almost feel sorry for them," he said, and at the Potions master's disbelieving stare, added "_Almost_."

"Hopefully it will be enough to teach them a lesson," the other sighed, and Harry smiled. He'd have to remember to pay a special visit to the Owlry soon, purely for correspondence, of course….

"So what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked, remembering that his father had mentioned something of the sort. He hoped that nothing bad had happened, as that was usually one of the reasons that the man wanted a word with him. Blinking in surprise, as he himself had obviously forgotten, his father shifted in the chair and turned serious once again.

"Actually, I just wanted to ask you about Malfoy. You two seem to be getting along fairly well, considering your history," he began, and Harry narrowed his eyes briefly. Something was a tad bit off about the way the man was watching him….

"Draco? Most of the time he's just been annoying, he still likes to follow me around, but his attitude has gotten better than it used to be," he answered after a moment, though he kept his eyes on his father, trying to figure out what was different.

"Really?" the older wizard prompted, one eyebrow raised in obvious surprise.

"Yeah. He's finally quit harassing me about hanging around with Ron and Hermione, and doesn't get into nearly so many fights with them as he used to. I think that's partially because Hermione gave Ron an earful about it too, though…Anyway, now they just ignore each other when they're in the same room together," Harry explained, waving one hand idly in the air. True, it had so far been a slow improvement on Draco's part, but it was certainly no less welcome.

"I'm sure Lucius is thrilled," Snape muttered, a tiny sneer flickering across his face. Then it had disappeared, and his eyes were focused once again, still making Harry feel oddly nervous as he stared back. Then his father took a deep breath, seeming to be steeling his nerves or something of the like, and began to speak, "Harry, I want you to be more careful around him. Lucius Malfoy is a very devious man, and Draco will do anything to please him. If either one of them finds any reason to believe that we are hiding something, then it is a guarantee that whatever it is won't stay hidden for long," he said, his voice low and deadly serious.

"Um…okay…" Harry replied, blinking in surprise. What had he meant by that? Everyone knew that the Malfoys were about as trustworthy as…well…someone untrustworthy, so what was his father getting at? It wasn't as if he'd suddenly become best friends with Draco, even if Draco happened to think that they were.

"I don't want you to ever be alone with him. When you're around him, I want there to be at least one other person you can trust in the room with you," his father said, his eyes focused once again with all their intensity. Instantly, Harry's eyes widened, and he stared in surprise for a moment before he could reply.

"What! But that'll be impossible! We're always alone in the common room doing homework or something-" he began to protest, but his father cut him off with an exasperated sigh.

"I know I'm new at this parenting thing, Harry, but you _must_ listen to me on this. I don't want you to be hurt, or worse, simply because Draco Malfoy wanted to please his father," he said, his expression faintly hard.

"But surely he would have already tried—" Harry began again, but the low, commanding voice of his father stopped him mid sentence.

"Harry," his father said, his face fixed into an expression that left room for no argument. Shoulders visibly slumping, Harry sighed and nodded weakly.

"Fine," he said tiredly, "I promise I will never be anywhere alone with Draco Malfoy," he finished, suddenly finding his shoes incredibly interesting. Across from him, he could sense the release of tension as his father sighed, his face softening with relief.

"Thank you," he said, and Harry nodded, grounding one shoe against the worn stone of the floor.

"It's getting late, I should probably get back to the common room now," Harry sighed, after catching sight of his watch.

"Very well. I'll see you in class tomorrow," his father said with a smile, watching as Harry rose and began to head towards the door, "Good night, Harry," he added, and Harry turned back, one hand on the doorknob.

"'Night, Dad," he said with a matching smile, and slipped out into the dark dungeon hallway. He'd made it halfway to the patch of gray wall that marked the entrance to the Slytherin common room when he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening with realization. Now he knew why he'd thought his father was acting funny, why he'd been so hesitant about broaching the subject of Draco. Never before had his father ever insisted, in true parental fashion, that Harry do or not do something, and he'd been completely unsure as to how to go about it. He'd predicted that Harry would argue with him, had anticipated his reluctance to agree, and yet he'd still gone forward with what he thought would be in his son's best interest. With a broad smile, Harry realized that they'd taken another step in the direction of becoming a true family. And so it was with considerably higher spirits that Harry continued on to the common room, no longer the least bit put off about his father's request.

Back down the hall, Severus Snape released an audible sigh of relief and collapsed lifelessly back into his chair. He'd never realized how hard it would be to speak to his son like that. In a classroom setting, it was easy to command students to do this and that, to get them to listen to him with a simple insult and glare. But while in the role of a parent…it was something completely different. He couldn't very well terrify his son into listening to him, especially since it was for his own safety in the first place. The entire time that they had been speaking he'd been half-afraid that he'd say something wrong or otherwise muck up the situation and terrify Harry into never wanting to speak to him again. Who knew that such a simple task could suddenly become so stressful? He was now immensely grateful that the conversation had gone fairly well, and most importantly, Harry had agreed to do as he asked. With a smile and a shake of his head, Severus thought that maybe, just maybe he was getting the hang of this whole 'dad' thing after all.

-------end 39--------

Notes: pant wheeze I did it…I finally finished the chapter…:collapses:

**Next Chapter**—Halloween, yet more Quidditch, and a certain big, black kitty FINALLY makes an appearance...grr….it would help if I'd stop rearranging my plotlines so much….

**Shameless Plug:** Go read 'Forgive and Forget' by Moira Brennan! It's a gorgeous story, you'll love it if you're a fan of Severus or Harry!

http/ just thought I'd return the favor. . TaTa!


	40. Padfoot Knows Best

Notes:: I have arisen from the dead! BWAHAHAHAHA! Ok, no…::shrug:: Anyway, no, I didn't have writer's block, I just had to set this on a backburner for a while. I apologize for it taking so long, but, loath as I am to say it, school comes first. *cries* Ah well. I apologize if this chap seems off at all, I'll use my currently being sick to explain it. Ta!

**Thanks**: Thank you to everyone for being patient with me! I hate it when I take so long to finish a chapter…but other things just kept getting in the way. At any rate, thank you very much for the kind reviews!

**Dedication:**  to Spidey, for inspiring me to completely change my plans for the end of this story, and henceforth inspiring a whole new complicated plot for a sequel. (I promise to reply to your email soon! My bloody email just died on me again! RAHRR!!!)

A Father's Sin 

By _Severitus_

Chapter 40—Padfoot Knows Best

Far in the depths of Hogwart's guest wing a fox, lynx, and a wolf sat staring straight ahead, glazed eyes focused on the scraggly, yet stern-looking man currently pacing before them. The fox and the wolf each sat with their tongues lolling out, panting furiously, while the tawny lynx sat unsteadily beside them, front paws spread and looking quite close to collapse. 

"NOW!" the man barked suddenly, whirling on his heels to send a stern look at his furry students. Instantly the three were on their feet, three successive pops following the command. Two pops sounded almost instantly, leaving a winded Harry and a half-dead looking Hermione. The third pop didn't sound until a few moments later, when a very wobbly and red-faced Ron appeared at their side. All three nearly cringed when a wide grin split Sirius' face, obviously pleased with their accomplishment. Even when Ron had finally achieved a complete transformation a little over a week ago, Sirius still insisted that they needed to keep practicing. He claimed that he wouldn't rest until all three of them could transform in the blink of an eye. Needless to say, Sirius was the only one excited by the prospect.

"HAHA! What did I tell you? _What_ did I tell you, eh?"  Sirius' laughing voice broke through the silent chamber, his three students staring resolutely at their feet. 

"Padfoot knows best," replied Hermione, Ron, and Harry in unison, all watching the older man with trepidation. Sirius only grinned wider and crossed his arms over his chest, looking more than a little pleased with himself. 

"Quite right," he said smugly, "and I've got you three to prove it!" he finished, and the three only nodded tiredly. After all, ever since 'Padfoot' had taken over their training, they had improved dramatically. Harry could transform just as quickly as Padfoot himself (and didn't dare argue over the continued training), Hermione took only a second longer, and Ron was improving his speed almost daily. All in all, Padfoot _did_ know best.

"Can we pleeease stop know?" Ron begged, and Hermione had to place hand on his shoulder to keep him from falling over. "The feast starts soon!" he complained, and Harry had to agree. The Halloween feast would be starting soon, and Harry was starving. Sirius paused for a moment, making a big show of tapping his chin as he considered the idea. 

"Oh, all right, seeming as it _is_ Halloween," Sirius finally relented, and Ron suddenly perked up, his supposed fatigue disappearing in an instant.

"YES!!" he exclaimed, and disappeared out the door without a backwards glance. Hermione was more polite, muttering a quick thank you before chasing after their red-haired companion. Harry smiled after them before turning and giving his godfather a quick hug.

"See you tomorrow?" Harry asked, and Sirius nodded.

"Yup, now off with you wolf-boy," Sirius said, giving Harry a light push toward the door.

"Fine, fine, I'm going…dog breath," Harry muttered with a smile, before slipping quickly out the door.

"Slackers!" Sirius yelled out the door, but Harry only laughed and brushed a long strand of sweaty hair out of his face. He'd definitely have to take a shower before the feast, he thought, as he climbed down the spiraling stairway to the guest wing's first floor. Ron and Hermione had long since disappeared from sight, and Harry figured it would be a fair wager to bet that they were already in the Great Hall.

He was on his way toward the Slytherin dorms when the sound of muffled, yet raised voices drew his attention. They were coming from inside one of the old classrooms near the Slytherin dorms. The old classrooms weren't used for anything really, save for the storage of old broken desks and other odd bits of furniture. Though it was generally frowned upon, the Professors didn't really care if students used the rooms or not, and many often did use them for studying or to practice various charms. The voices now drifting from the room, however, sounded nothing like a typical study session.

Stepping quietly up to the door, Harry drew his wand and carefully cracked it open. Instantly the voices became clearer, and Harry recognized them instantly.

"I thought I told you to back off!!" Draco's voice yelled at someone in the room.  Harry heard a soft thump and a grunt immediately afterward, one that he was guessing belonged to Draco. Harry blinked in surprise, pressing his ear closer to the door. He'd never heard Draco yell at another Slytherin like that before, nor had another Slytherin (save for himself and the Quidditch Captain) ever yelled at Draco before. Something strange was going on….

"Sorry, but we can't do that. Our fathers told us to teach you a lesson about minding your place, and we don't think you've learned quite enough yet," Pansy replied darkly.  Harry could only guess that Crabbe and Goyle must have been in the room as well. After all, the two had taken to following around Pansy and Millicent whenever Draco wasn't around. But now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Draco with Crabbe and Goyle at all in the past week….

"If I choose to think for myself once in a while, that's no business of yours!" Draco yelled back, but he sounded nervous. Harry bit his lip nervously, mentally debating whether or not he should run for help, interfere himself, or leave Draco to deal with his own business.

"It is if it concerns our future Master. My father told me that whatever it was you did was very stupid, and the Dark Lord isn't happy. We're doing you a favor, Draco," she said, "Crabbe, Goyle…." she began, but Harry made up his mind. Sure, Draco could be a jerk, but Harry wasn't the type to just stand by and listen to someone getting beat up when he could very well do something about it.

 Harry threw the door open with a boom and stepped into the doorway, crossing his arms angrily as he turned a fierce glare on the four Slytherins inside. What he saw both shocked and horrified him. Crabbe and Goyle had Draco shoved up against a wall, while Pansy stood before him like the conductor of some dark orchestra. Draco was in pretty bad shape already. A split lip was slowly oozing blood down his chin and a large bruise was beginning to form across his jaw, and by the way his robes were torn and rumbled there were more than simply the visible injuries.

"_Snape?!_" Pansy yelped as she whirled to face the door, with Crabbe and Goyle merely staring at him in curiosity. Draco looked just as shocked as Harry felt, but remained stubbornly silent. 

"Pardon the intrusion, but I feel obligated to interfere when I see my Housemates beating up on each other," he said, his wand now drawn and held at the ready.

"Stay out of this Zachary, we're just following orders," Pansy said, though she was looking extremely uncomfortable. Harry cracked a feral grin; evidently he _did_ have much more of a reputation that he was aware of.

"Sorry, but no. Now, let him go. I won't ask twice," Harry growled, his eyes narrowed darkly as he gave his wand an idle flick. Pansy paled, but tossed her hair and puffed out her chest in an effort to regain her injured pride.

"Fine. We'll finish this later," she mumbled, and gave a nod to Crabbe and Goyle. Harry took a casual step the side and watched the three as they left the room, Pansy grumbling all the way out the door.

"You could get in trouble for that, you know," Draco said roughly as Harry turned to the blonde-haired boy, one eyebrow raised.

"Your point being?" he asked with a small smile, and Draco gave a dry laugh while wiping his bleeding lip on his sleeve.

"Thanks," he muttered awkwardly, and Harry only nodded in reply, taking a moment to study the injured boy. Draco didn't look at all like himself, even aside from the obvious injuries. His eyes held dark circles beneath them and his hair was mussed, and, as he stood leaning against the wall, his stance implied none of his normally superior attitude. Harry narrowed his eyes for a moment, retracing what he'd overheard of the conversation between Draco and Pansy. So Draco had done or not done something to upset his father and the Dark Lord…but what? Harry didn't think he'd be getting answers anytime soon, so decided he'd wait and think on it later.

"Let's get you to the Hospital Wing," Harry said, and the other boy allowed himself to be led out of the room without a word of protest.

"So what was that all about?" Harry asked, not really expecting much of an answer.

"Nothing really. I just didn't do something that my father wanted me to, and he decided to ask those three to teach me a lesson," Draco replied quietly, his eyes cast to the floor. He looked more than a little depressed, a rare show of emotion for the blonde Slytherin. Most of the time you couldn't really tell what the boy was thinking, but at the moment he was an open book.

"Then you did the right thing," Harry replied as they headed toward the dungeon exit, Draco limping a little on his right leg. At the comment Draco wiped his head around in surprise.

"Why would you say I made the right decision? I got beat up!" Draco asked, though his expression was more shocked than it was angry. 

"Because it was _your_ decision. Yeah, your dad wasn't too happy about it. So what? If he's not proud of you for doing what you feel is right, then that is his problem, not yours," Harry said with an idle shrug, and almost laughed at the gape-jawed expression on Draco's face. The blonde blinked for a moment, some sort of comprehension visible in his eyes. But then he blinked and shook his head, casting Harry and incredulous expression

"Bloody hell, what are you, a psychologist or something?" Draco exclaimed, and Harry laughed in amusement. 

"Nah. I've just had a lot to think about this year. Why, do you need one?" he asked, grinning maliciously.

"Hey! No teasing the cripple!" Draco exclaimed, holding onto his ribs as he tried not to laugh.

"Well you're walking, aren't you?" Harry replied, and Draco only grumbled. Harry smiled to himself as they neared the hospital wing, casting another considering glance at his companion. Maybe Draco wasn't such a bad guy after all, he thought, and then shook his head slightly. But no matter the case, Harry sincerely hoped that his father didn't find out that he'd been alone with Draco, and several other 'untrustworthy' members of Slytherin. After all, he didn't want to be stuck scrubbing the Owlry floor with a toothbrush!

------------------

The evening sun was setting beneath the distant line of trees, casting an unearthly, orange glow across the clear sky. A few bright stars were speckled through the darkening colors, more fading into view with each passing moment. Severus stood leaning against a crumbling windowsill in the entrance hall, pausing a moment on his way to the Halloween feast to admire the softening shades of the sunset. It wasn't often that he had a moment to spare for such things, and it was even less often that he even considered wasting his time to admire a view; but something in the emptiness of the halls and the odd quiet of the grounds caused him to pause and watch. A small smile briefly appeared on his lips for a moment, before it faded into his sterner, neutral expression. 

It was just as he was preparing to turn away that he saw it. The faintest glimmer of light from within the depths of the darkened forest. It was a dim, brief flash of light, almost as if someone had whispered a brief 'lumos' spell, perhaps not wishing to attract attention. Narrowing his eyes, Severus stared harder, straining his vision against the distant shadows of the gnarled, ancient trees. Then he saw it once again, not a bright as before, but there nevertheless. Something that appeared to be humanlike darted through the distant trees, every minute or so a brief flash of light illuminating their body as they moved along the perimeter of the forest. Flicking his eyes briefly up and down the empty hall, Severus slipped toward the nearest side door, sliding his figure quickly through to prevent the light from escaping into the darkness outside. Pulling his cloak tighter about his shoulders, he crept quietly across the grounds toward the forest, aiming for a place well behind the mysterious intruder. 

It wasn't until he was just inside the forest that he came to a silent halt, hidden beneath the thick branches of two ancient trees. Going any further without a source of light would have been suicidal, and he wasn't about to risk his life or his position. Pressing his hands against the rough bark of the nearest tree, he peered off into the darkness, straining his ears for the faint sound of snapping twigs and his eyes for the brief flash of light. The light came a moment later, from some fifty feet or so away. The light outlined an unmistakably human figure, though judging by his or her height it was someone young. Growling in irritation, Severus glared at the spot of darkness where he'd last seen the light. When would the students realize that the Forbidden Forest was forbidden for a _reason_? However, just as he began to push himself away from the tree and give the child a proper reprimanding for being a bloody idiot, another thought struck him. What if it _wasn't_ a student? The Serpent's Children had been seen lurking about the school and Hogsmeade before, what if they had returned? The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense. After all, it had only been a few weeks since they had recast the barrier spells, and Voldemort would most likely be wanting to judge their strength.

With a deep growl and a determined glare, Severus stepped away from the tree, a plan of action already formed within his mind. If the stranger was a Serpent's Child, then he would have to act now while he knew exactly where they were, he could not risk them disappearing while he ran off to alert the Headmaster, nor could he risk being seen in the event that it eluded capture. Not even the leaves made a sound as he stepped away from the tree, a predator in search of his prey.

------------------------

The boy formerly known as Jonathon LaCroix continued steadily along through the forest, his eyes glazed and ivory white. Occasionally his right arm would raise into the air, his lips forming the words 'lumos' and 'nox' at regular intervals, each perfectly matched for length and time. But Jonathon knew none of this. Jonathon had ceased to exist months ago, when his head had first exploded in pain and he'd heard that eerie, hissing voice ringing inside his skull. After that, he'd killed his family. At first he'd simply found himself unable to control his arms or his legs, his body a thing in which he was merely a passenger. Then things had begun to grow fuzzy, his thoughts slowing and his vision fading, until all that remained for a moment was sound-- screaming, shrieking, and a loud explosion that seemed familiar. His mother had always said that leaving the shotgun in the closet was dangerous. She'd been right.

Jonathon had faded away completely by the time his body left the house, the shotgun bearing his bloodied fingerprints left to lie on the sidewalk in the peaceful country neighborhood. He'd kept walking straight out of town, the odd mark he'd always born on his right cheek tingling icily as he went to join his master. But again, Jonathon knew none of this. All that he knew was that he must continue walking and casting the spell, ignorant and incapable of understanding any reasons behind it. 

The boy who had once been Jonathon slowed to a stop, a faint sound from off to his left triggering some other command buried inside his brain. He waited, his blank, ivory eyes searching the dark forest to his left. Nothing. Turning, he began to walk again, oblivious to the odd, instinctive awareness that he was being watched. 

He hadn't even seen the beast until it was right in front of his face—jaws opened wide to reveal many gleaming white fangs, pearly claws extended and aimed at his chest. It plowed into him with the force of a freight train, driving him several feet across the ground after knocking him off his feet. If Jonathon could have thought before his mind sank deep into unconsciousness, he would have noted how perfectly the beast's fur matched the darkness of the forest. And he also would have noted that the beast was anything but normal, for he'd never heard of a lion that was _black_.

-------

Albus Dumbledore was enjoying a rather peaceful evening, having finished all of the tedious paperwork his position demanded earlier than expected. The students were mostly in the Great Hall, the staff busied in their various offices or at the feast, and the only thing currently in need of his attention was the warm cup of tea in his hand and the bowl of lemon drops on the edge of his desk. He would attend the feast himself later on, but for now all he wanted was the pleasant silence of his own office

It was because of this rare moment of peace and quiet that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was nearly shocked out of his favorite socks when his office door flew open with a resounding 'boom.' Being over 150 years old did have it's perks however, for it took no more than a second for the elderly wizard to regain his usual composure, looking for all the world as if lying on his back in a overturned chair was a common occurrence. His visitor, who turned out to be one Severus Snape, merely quirked an eyebrow and said not a word. 

"Albus, I apologize for bursting in on you, but I have found something that requires your immediate attention," Severus said flatly, watching with detached indifference as the Headmaster waved his wand to clean up his spilt tea.

"Oh don't worry yourself Severus, I was merely taking a moment to study my ceiling. It really is quite enchanting," Dumbledore smiled, righting the fallen chair with a flick of his wand. "Now what is this you wish to show me?"

"A Serpent's Child. I found him circling the school's border. At this moment I have him restrained in the dungeons, though I doubt he has enough mind to even attempt escape at the moment," he answered, one eyebrow lowered in thought.

"Oh," Dumbledore blinked, but at the same time snatched his wand from atop his desk, "Lead the way Severus." With a curt nod, Severus whirled and disappeared out the door, Dumbledore following just behind, only his eyes showing his surprise. 

They continued on into the furthest depths of the dungeons, passing beyond the classrooms, dorms, and few still-used rooms that lined the main hallways. The torches became dimmer the further they went, the walls darker with moisture and the air regaining a winter-like chill. Severus drew to a stop in front of a heavy oaken door, dispelling the advanced locking charms he'd placed upon it with a flick of his wrist. Beyond the door was a small, square chamber, brightly light by the many torches Severus' had set up around the room. And right in the center of the room, a teenager lay upon an ancient stone table, his wrists and ankles restrained by bands of glowing blue energy. 

It was a boy, looking to be about fifteen or sixteen years old. He was dressed in plain gray robes, frayed and rumpled as if he didn't care for or hadn't noticed his own appearance. The face was pale and round, and set just at the boy's temple was the ebony Serpent's Mark. Dumbledore's eyes paused for a moment on the Mark, the eternal twinkle faded from his blue eyes. And then he noticed the boy's eyes, which were by far the most disturbing thing about the child. His eyes were completely white, devoid of both pupil and iris. They were like the eyes of a corpse or a reptile, cold and eerie for the mere fact that you could not see beyond them. For a moment, Dumbledore entertained the thought that perhaps the child _was_ dead, but boy proved him wrong with the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

"How long has he been like this?" Dumbledore asked, casting his gaze to the tall wizard at his side. Severus was staring transfixed at the Serpent's Mark, his eyes wider than normal but no more expressive.

"Ever since I brought him beyond the barrier. It was as if he was a puppet whose strings had been suddenly cut," he said, and Dumbledore noted the whiteness of the knuckles that were clutching Severus' crossed arms, even though he man himself seemed unaware of his own tension. Dumbledore sighed and adjusted his spectacles, circling slowly around the boy. 

"That is in essence what he is--a puppet. I had suspected something like this would happen," Dumbledore replied, reaching forward one wrinkled hand to grasp the child's jaw. He turned the head to the left, and then to the right, but the boy didn't even so much as blink. 

"Albus…do you think that _all _the Serpent's Children would end up like this?" Severus asked, his gaze once again transfixed on the curving black tattoo-like mark marring the boy's temple. Placing a gentle hand upon the younger wizards shoulder, the Headmaster cast him a small smile.

"I will be honest with you Severus…I don't know the answer to that question. My best guess would be that some, like this boy, would lose all sense of self, while others may retain all or at least a part of their own minds," Albus answered. When he saw the fear bleeding into his companion's face he continued, "I know that you fear for Harry, Severus, but he is safe here. The best we can do for him is to keep him on the school grounds, and Voldemort's followers off."

"I know, Albus," Severus sighed, "But I can't help but fear for him anyway. Voldemort has found ways to get to him before, and even though he is no longer the 'Boy Who Lived,' he is still at risk." Severus looked troubled as he answered, his gaze turned inward to some imagined horror or another, but Dumbledore only smiled.

"You're a wonderful father to him, Severus," he said simply, his eyes once again twinkling brightly. Severus snapped out of his daze and stared at him incredulously, shaking his head in blunt refusal to reply. "Speaking of Harry, are you planning on letting him in on that little secret of yours?" Dumbledore asked, nodding his head slightly toward the boy on the table. Severus scoffed, raising his chin in the air and straightening his spine.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," he answered stiffly, and turned toward the door. "What do you plan to do with the Serpent's Child?" he asked, and Dumbledore shrugged.

"I'll most likely contact a few people in the Ministry, I'd like to have them take a look at the boy," he answered. "Now, no more worries about any of this tonight, Severus. I believe there is still a Halloween feast going on!" he declared merrily. Severus sighed and followed the old man out the door, casting one last look at the living puppet he'd dragged from the Forbidden Forest and the Mark it shared with his son.

---end 40---

Fic plug!!::: please check out 'Shadows of a Soul' by Elizabeth Bathory and myself!

http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=992131

and if you enjoy gymnastics, check out my roommates original fic 'Solomon's Misery' at: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=954262

**Next time::**  a little spying, a little more Draco, and…um…stuff. TaTa!


	41. Before the Storm

**Notes::** Yes, I know this has taken a (long) while, and I do apologize for disappearing. I haven't had writer's block of any sort, so never fear! I have a very nice schedule of classes this semester, so I reeeeeally want to get back to writing again. I've _missed_ working on my stories!! Nevertheless, I hope I've managed to keep this chapter congruent with the previous ones. ^_^;

Thank you for being patient with me! J

**Warning:::** Possible OCC ahead….

A Father's Sin 

By _Severitus_

Chapter 41--Before the Storm 

            Severus sighed heavily as he leaned back in his chair, content only in the knowledge that he didn't have any papers to grade over the weekend. He'd finished the very last of them Thursday, as he had to turn in the midterm grades early that day. Most of them would be sent out to parents and guardians over the weekend, to the chagrin of many students. He cast a wry smile at the folded parchment set atop his desk, the green ink shining from the nearby candlelight. It was 'Zachary's' midterm grade report, which Minerva had given him personally that morning. Severus was proud to say that his son's grades were improving in all of his classes, and he was easily the top potions student in his year. Idly, Severus wondered if it was Slytherin House that had allowed Harry to concentrate more on his studies than before. Perhaps Gryffindor with its focus on Quidditch, the Weasley twins, and all manner of distractions simply hadn't allowed him to perform his best at schoolwork. Or, perhaps, Slytherin simply suited him better overall. But either way, Severus couldn't have been prouder. It was an odd feeling, not one he was overly used to experiencing, but he decided that he liked it very much.             

            The knock on the door was somewhat unexpected, considering that most of the students and staff were still at dinner. He stared at the door for a moment, debating whether he should ignore the unwanted interruption of his thoughts or humor whoever it was and allow them entry. Sighing heavily, he dropped his expression into its usual mask of indifference and waved the office door open with a muttered 'come in.'

            "Professor?" a nervous voice asked, and Severus looked up, startled to see Draco Malfoy lingering in his doorway, looking small and unsure. Blinking, Severus waved him into the room and allowed the door to shut behind him.

            "What can I do for you, Mr. Malfoy?" Severus asked once Draco was seated stiffly before the desk. His pale grey eyes were studying his knees, occasionally flicking up to catch his Professor's gaze. Severus had to concentrate for a moment on not showing his surprise at the uncharacteristic behavior. This certainly wasn't the same Draco Malfoy that seemed to take so much after his father, proud and with a superiority factor that would've made a giant cringe. This boy seemed nervous and scared, almost as if he were a small child standing out in the open for the first time. With a start, Severus wondered if perhaps _this_ was the real Draco Malfoy, and if everything he'd seen before had been the 'act,' so to speak. Well, there was only one way to find out, he supposed. "Mr. Malfoy?" he asked again, as the boy had retreated into silence.

            "Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you, but…Zachary suggested that I talk to you," Draco began unsurely.  Severus blinked again, that being the only outward indication of the sudden swarm of thought that surged up from his subconscious. Hadn't he warned Harry about Draco? He wondered first, instinctively jumping to the worst conclusion. But that was followed by other thoughts…for instance, had Harry seen or heard something from Draco that he thought Severus should know about? Or, wishfully thinking, did Draco have something important to say that he'd entrusted to Zachary, and that the other boy thought important enough to bring to his attention? Severus sighed; again, he had no way of knowing what to think about the current situation. 

            "What is it that you wanted to talk about, Mr. Malfoy? Has something happened?" Severus began tentatively, schooling his expression into one of patience and mild concern. Draco shifted and appeared to relax slightly, although his knuckles were still white with strain.

            "Er…yes, I guess you could say that…." He started, twisting his hands in his lap and briefly daring to meet his teachers gaze, "My father…he asked me to do something for him, something that…I didn't like. So…I disobeyed him, and he was…well…angry with me," the boy finished nervously, and immediately looked up again, almost as if he was afraid of what the reaction would be. Severus stilled in surprise, his eyes unconsciously widened as he finally realized what had his student in such a nervous state. Of course, Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater, and Draco knew that Severus was as well. And if Lucius had asked Draco to do something that caused the boy that much turmoil, it was obviously something related to Voldemort. Draco probably thought that he would be angry with him as well for ruining the Dark Lord's plans.  

            "This wouldn't have anything to do with your being in the hospital wing these past few days, would it?" Severus inquired, daring to hope that Draco was truly hinting at what he hoped he was. Even one child swayed from Voldemort's service could be considered a huge victory, especially when that child was a Malfoy.

            "Um…yes. Zack sort of…rescued me from some of our Housemates who weren't too happy with me, and I told him about it," Draco admitted, his voice no longer shaking nervously. Severus supposed that the fact that he hadn't blown up at the boy yet had soothed his fears about getting in trouble. Narrowing his eyes, he fixed Draco with an inquiring stare.

            "If you don't mind my asking, what exactly did your father want you to do?" he asked softly, trying his best to not seem threatening or angry. If whatever Lucius had planned posed as any true threat to the school, he had to find out what the man was up to and inform the Headmaster immediately. Neither Lucius nor Voldemort were stupid enough to place their faith in the actions of a fifteen year old child, they'd undoubtedly have at least one backup plan already underway.

            "He sent me a banishing stone…I was supposed to use it while the school barrier was being re-cast," Draco admitted, his knees suddenly having become interesting once again. It was obvious that the boy was ashamed of disobeying his father, but Severus wasn't about to let it stay that way for long.

            "And why didn't you?" he asked, knowing that it would be a difficult question to answer, and one that had the potential of revealing if Draco was being honest or was simply making up a story at his father's request. If the later was the case, there was no way that Severus could risk any behavior that could reveal him as a spy.         

            "I like Hogwarts, sir. I like it the way it is now. And…well…for the first time I have a friend that my father didn't choose for me, and…I guess I just don't want to jeopardize that, you know?" Draco replied, casting Severus an uneasy glance. The Potions Master blinked, leaning back into his chair to study the gray-eyed child. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting to hear in reply, but that certainly hadn't been it.

            "Mr. Malfoy, you understand how dangerous this could be for you? Especially talking to me about this?" he asked slowly, his eyes narrowed with the severity of the question. 

            "Yes sir…" Draco whispered, sinking lower in his chair.

            "Then why have you? Why risk it?" Severus persisted, and Draco refused to raise his eyes, pausing a moment to chew on his bottom lip.

            "Well…Zachary told me that you would understand better than anyone else would. He didn't say why, just suggested that I talk to you," Draco said quietly to his shoes, apparently having lost whatever confidence he'd gained by his Professor's lack of anger at his words.

            "Do you want to be what you father is, Draco?" Severus asked softly, his words causing Draco to jerk his head up in an instant.

            "No," Draco said firmly, his eyes narrowed with uneasy determination.

            "And do you know what that answer entails?" Severus continued, lacing his hands across his stomach as he stared intently at the fifth year. Draco gave a short laugh and returned his gaze to his lap once again.

            "I'd…probably be disowned or something, and all of Slytherin would hate me," he mumbled, his mouth twisted in a wry smile.

            "Not all, but you would be in danger, Mr. Malfoy," Severus replied. He himself knew precisely which students would be a danger to the boy and which would not. Slytherin did have by far the largest number of Voldemort's supporters at Hogwarts, but it housed almost an equal number of children that belonged to families that had stubbornly refused to take one side or another in the war. Self-preservation was very much an ambition as well when it came to war, after all.

            "I know," Draco sighed, apparently remembering the incident that had sent him to the hospital wing. Severus allowed a moment of silence to stretch, allowing the boy's mind to explore the many consequences that could result of the path he had apparently chosen. Leaning forward once again, Severus prepared for the final part of his inquisition, that which would prove to him once and for all the honesty of Draco's intent.

            "I am going to ask you a question, Mr. Malfoy, and I want you to be completely honestly with me, alright?" Severus said, silently commanding the boy to meet his eyes. Draco obeyed, nodding once before replying.

            "Yes, sir."

            "Where do your loyalties lie?" Severus asked, not blinking once as he held the boy's gaze. Draco blinked in confusion at first, until his eyes widened with realization.

            "I…don't really know, sir," Draco admitted honestly, his brow scrunched with thought. "Dumbledore is ok, I suppose…but I don't really know anything about what he _wants_. The Dark Lord is…well…Ithinkhemustbeinsane," he mumbled quickly, and Severus finally blinked, struggling to try and decipher the quick speech.

            "What was that again?" Severus asked, one eyebrow raised at the boy. Draco looked more embarrassed than nervous now, and his hands fidgeted in his lap as he answered, thankfully at a normal speed this time.

            "I think the Dark Lord is nuts," he admitted slowly, keeping his eyes firmly locked on his lap, "I mean, he wants to rule the world, right? Get rid of muggles and mudbloods and all that?" he said, something like confusion crossing his face for a brief moment, "Well…I overheard once that he's a mudblood himself, and really, what would getting rid of them solve? Look at Granger…she's more of a know-it-all that any pureblood I've met.  Getting rid of people like her would only weaken our community, right? Fudge is a pureblood, and he's a royal idiot if I ever saw one…Longbottom too, but at least he knows it," Draco finished, his voice having gotten louder and more animated the longer he spoke. "Sorry, sir," he muttered, obviously having realized that he'd been slandering students and respected political figures in front of a professor.

            "I think I can overlook that last bit considering the circumstances," Severus said with an amused smile, "Now, what is it that you'd like me to do?" he asked seriously, and Draco suddenly seemed to be at a loss.

            "I don't know...I don't know what to do, really," he mumbled, one shoe now digging at a spot on the floor. Severus sighed and ran a hand back through his hair, casting his student an unreadable look.

            "Then allow me to give you some advice," he began, "Stick close to those you _trust_. Don't be afraid to go to someone for help or to talk. And be yourself. People will get used to it, although I wouldn't advise letting certain students catch you alone. Your behavior alone will let people know your allegiances loud and clear," Severus said, knowing that Draco would have to heed all three of the above if he had any hope of surviving the coming war mostly unscathed.

            "And my father…?" Draco questioned almost sadly.

            "…Will be dealt with when the time comes. I believe that the Zabini's are your cousins, yes?" Severus asked, sure that he remembered hearing that somewhere. Draco nodded, and he continued, "If your parents disown you, then undoubtedly the Zabini's will be granted custody of you. And you know as well as I that they lay their allegiances with no one." Draco sat still for a moment, his eyes glazed as he considered one thing or another. But then he glanced up and cracked a small, rather weak smile.

            "Thank you, sir," he said as he began to rise from his chair, almost as if he was unused to using that particular phrase.

            "Of course, Mr. Malfoy, and I'm sure that you know not to mention our little conversation to anyone.…" Severus said, and Draco nodded, his smile wider than it had been before.

            "I won't breath a word, sir," he said proudly, and Severus smiled as he waved open his office door.

            "Very well then. You best get back to your dormitory for now, but my door is always open should you need to speak to me about anything," Severus told him sincerely, and Draco cast him his first, true smile.

            "Alright, thanks again, Professor," Draco said, and slipped out the door into the lighter hallway beyond.

            Severus sighed as the door clicked shut after the boy, running a hand back through his hair again as he stared at a large tome on the bookshelf next to his desk. With a flick of his hand, the illusion on the book dissipated, revealing the crystal sneak-o-scope hidden stealthy between two genuine books. With a shake of his head and an amused laugh, Severus realized that the device hadn't whistled even once during the entire conversation. Things were definitely changing.

-------

            The books landed on the library table with a volume that made Madam Pince glare like the Dark Lord himself. Ron and Hermione both appeared to be in some sort of shock as they stared at the person who had willingly joined them at the table, so much so that they completely missed the librarian's dark glare. Harry only rolled his eyes and continued reading.

            "Hello, Draco," he sighed, not once looking up from the dusty History of Magic book propped open on the table before him. The blonde had been released from the Hospital Wing just that morning after spending two days under Pomphrey's …ah…_delicate_ care. Harry had known that it would only be a matter of time until Draco showed up in one form or another. Although, even he had to admit seeing the boy willingly wander into the company of two Gryffindors without first making one snide remark or another was more than a little surprising. 

            "Malfoy?!" Ron stuttered finally, and Draco only spared him a brief, annoyed look as he dug a quill and parchment out his bag, making himself right at home with the trio. Ron's face had turned an odd shade of pink, his eyes blinking down first at the pile of Draco's books on the table, and then at the strangely calm Slytherin himself, as if not quite able to process what was going on.   

            "Hello, Weasley, Granger. You three don't mind if I study with you, do you?" Draco asked, having opened the topmost book to a previously marked page, his dry quill absently tapping against a blank sheet of parchment. Ron looked immediately ready to protest, but Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, and after casting a questioning look at Harry, smiled lightly and nodded in assent.

            "Sure…we were just...um…gathering some information for our History of Magic essays," Hermione replied, waving her hand at the sheet of parchment she'd already filled on the subject. Ron still didn't look at all happy, but he said nothing and returned his attention to his own stack of books. 

            "Hey…Zack…." Draco said uneasily, turning everyone's attention to Harry, who only then looked up from the book in front of him.

            "Yeah?" Harry asked, momentarily surprised by the unusually open expression on Draco's face. Ron and Hermione looked more than a little taken aback at the discovery as well.

            "Thanks…for bringing me my homework and everything," Draco mumbled, not quite looking anyone in the eye. 

            "Anytime," Harry shrugged, and then leveled a stare at the nervous blonde, "Did you talk to him?" he asked seriously, and Draco met his eyes for a brief moment.

            "Yeah, after dinner," he replied, and Harry nodded, satisfied. Looking up, he smiled at the obviously confused expressions on Ron and Hermione's faces, both of whom were still staring at Draco with some degree of shock.

            "So," Harry started happily, clasping his hands atop his book, "Anybody find out anything on Grivel the Great yet?" he asked, smiling brightly. It took a moment, but everyone successfully regained their composure and set to work, all four of them somehow managing to work together without a single insult, threat, or glare being cast the entire time. 

~----`----~

            Voldemort wasn't happy, to say the least. More accurately, he was severely aggravated, annoyed, and growing steadily more impatient with each passing day. No one, not even his most influential or skilled Death Eaters had been able to find out anything in regards to Harry Potter. The brat had simply disappeared off the face of the earth. Of course, Voldemort had been able to take advantage of even that aggravation with a few well-timed newspaper articles. Thanks to him, almost everyone believed the formerly great Harry Potter to be a dark wizard. With that belief intact, anyone who happened to stumble across Potter would most assuredly inform the authorities, effectively providing Voldemort with at least some idea of his location. Unfortunately, nobody had seen the little wretch in months. And Voldemort was steadily losing patience.                   

            His only hope of attaining a better mood, and perhaps of keeping himself from murdering Wormtail in one fit or rage or another, was in the brown-haired boy knelt before him. Vanus, spawn of his most influential Death Eater and leader of his Serpent's Children. Of course, 'leader' wasn't exactly the most accurate term, but the boy served his purpose well. Voldemort had chosen Vanus because of his breeding and the Malfoy family's seemingly inbred ability to sway anyone to their purposes. Vanus had proven to be just as skilled in that area as he had hoped, having easily gained access to first Durmstrang, and then Beauxbaton's. Voldemort had to admit that he was quite proud of his creation.

                        "Rise, Vanus. What do you have to report?" The Dark Lord commanded to the boy knelt before him. Vanus rose in one smooth motion, ever the picture of perfect obedience.

            "Yes, my Lord," Vanus bowed, inclining his head ever so slightly. "None of those I cast under the Imperious have found any trace of your book, my Lord. The entire castle was searched, including many secret passageways and two hidden libraries. Unfortunately we were able to find nothing but this letter, my Lord," Vanus said, dropping to his knees once again and holding forth a rolled parchment with the remnants of a wax seal clinging to its edge. Voldemort snatched it quickly from the boy's grasp and read over it briefly, his scowl deepening.

            "So…the old fool knows what we're looking for," Voldemort hissed, glaring at the letter before turning it to ash with a wave of his hand. "He thought he'd warn them, did he?" he laughed, his pale lips drawn into a crazed smirk.

            "Vanus, how would you feel about returning to Beauxbaton's?" Voldemort hissed, his face still twisted in an unusual smile. Vanus blinked once in confusion before replying uneasily.

            "I'd like it very much, sir."

            "Good. I think it's time to show the great Dumbledore just what we're capable of even without my book," Voldemort smirked, his eyes narrowed to brightly glowing slits. "Take twenty of the Serpent's Children with you to Beauxbaton's tonight, and have them prepared for battle. I will send my Death Eaters to join you before dawn with orders for attack. Beauxbaton's _will_ fall before dusk, Vanus," the Dark Lord hissed, threatening at the last.

            "Y-yes, my Lord, of course."

            "Then off with you. Take your charges," Voldemort hissed, and Vanus backed quickly out of the room, never raising his eyes from the floor. Leaning back in his chair, Voldemort allowed a tiny smile to grace his lips, slit nostrils flaring with anticipation. "Wormtail!" he yelled, his coarse voice echoing off the ancient stone walls. With the scampering of feet, the balding, silver-handed man suddenly skidded into the room, dropping to his knees before his master.

            "Yes, my Lord?" he asked, panting.

            "Hold out your arm. It's time to summon my faithful," he sneered, and Wormtail immediately held forth his marked forearm, allowing the snake-like man to press his bone-like fingers to the stained flesh. His gaze darkened, the sneer transforming into an expression that promised nothing but much pain, "And also time, I think, to ask Severus just how Dumbledore found out about my book, and about the well-being of that son of his…." He growled, and Wormtail shivered. It was an unspoken fact that there would definitely be more than _questioning_ involved.

--End 41--

**Notes::** You know, I don't even like Draco, and yet he wormed his way into so much of this chapter. Argh. *sigh*  And don't worry, next chapter will be out very soon, I have it all planned…mwahahaha…..

**Next Chapter::** animagi on midnight strolls, death eater meetings, and oh, I'm feeling wicked…::cracks knuckles:: Yes, you heard right, all hail the return of the angst! HAHAHA! Forgive me, it's 3am…^_^; 


	42. And it Begins

**Notes:** hides in shame I have no words to portray the true depth of my sincerest apologies for my extended absence. May Filch hang my humble and unworthy carcass from the rafters of the Owlry, where large birds of prey shall slowly pick the flesh from my bones. May I say only that this took four rewrites in my defense, and I am now going to pass out on the floor in relief and exhaustion. Pray that this chapter is better than I feel it is. ;

**Dedicated to:** Darth Stitch, QsDaughter, Sky, and Campy Capybara for successfully providing the encouragement I needed to get this chapter finished. Thanks!

A Father's Sin

by _Severitus_

Chapter 42 – And it Begins

The common room was virtually empty for the night, with only one or two of the older students studying off in a far corner. Candy wrappers and bits of black and orange crepe paper littered the room, the only remnants of the Halloween party that had ended less than an hour before. Ron and Hermione were seated in two chairs near the fire, though a third was pulled up beside them for no obvious reason.

"Oh, come on, Hermione! This'll be fun! Besides, it's not like we could be caught…" Ron pleaded quietly, nearly reduced to dropping to his knees before her impassive glare.

"But it's _dangerous_. What if Filch sees us? Or one of the other professors? They'd know that something was up…a fox, wolf, and lynx running down the halls at night isn't normal even for Hogwarts!" Hermione shot back, shifting her glare from Ron to the empty seat and back again.

"Well," Harry said, his voice seeming to originate from somewhere by the empty chair, "You could always think of it as an experiment…we _do_ need to get accustomed to our animagus forms after all…."

"I don't know…." Hermione said, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

"Pleeeease?" Ron and the Harry asked in tandem, before a face suddenly appeared floating above the chair, blinking wide, bright, green eyes. Hermione stared from one boy to the next, and finally shook her head in defeat.

"Fine…but none of the main corridors. I really don't want to end up as Hagrid's newest pet," she said dejectedly, and all three couldn't help but shiver at the very thought. The half-giant would have been nothing short of ecstatic to find three predators running about Hogwarts, and probably would have taken them all on as his newest 'pets.'

"So when do we start?" Ron asked, his mouth twisted in a mischievous grin.

It was perhaps the most fun they'd had in ages. Running through the halls on four paws with not a care in the world, it felt as if they'd entered another world. The old stones of the castle had never seemed so grand or so alive. It was almost eerie in the way the shadows seemed to move and breath in the flickering light of the remaining torches. The Halloween parties had ended hours ago, curfew having been long before that, and so the hallways were darker and more silent than they ever had been. They laughed and rolled, chasing each other up and down the hallways and sniffing each other out in hidden nooks in corners. There were no worries as they ran along, no thoughts of Serpent's Children or Dark Lords or incompetent Ministers of Magic. The three had left all of their worries behind with their human forms. Eventually they would return to them again, but for the moment they were nothing more than a memory.

Ron, by far, was having the most fun of them all. He had gone sprinting down the halls, chasing his tail and taunting the sleepy suits of armor. He'd teased the many portraits by prancing about in front of them and then dashing off again, only to return a moment later from a different direction. Harry and Hermione had watched and laughed as well as they could, gaining their own enjoyment from watching their fiery friend revel in the freedom his fox-form provided. It hadn't taken long until Ron had coerced the two of them into an involved game of chase that led deeper into the castle. They'd chased him down several staircases and into the older part of the dungeons, pausing only to terrify Mrs. Norris when she suddenly appeared from behind a tapestry. She'd escaped soon enough, her master nowhere in sight, and they'd found themselves in a long, dimly lit dungeon corridor far beyond the Slytherin common room.

Ron had suddenly skidded to a stop in the middle of the corridor, his black-tipped ears twitching as he listened to a faint sound from further down. Harry had noticed it not long after, turning to look at a door at the very end of the dank hallway. A dim light was escaping from beneath a heavy wooden door, and several indistinct voices were coming from somewhere inside. Surprisingly, Hermione was the first to begin creeping down the corridor, her large paws soundless on the worn stone floor. Her ears were laid back and her short, sandy tail was twitching anxiously. She paused once and turned her large brown eyes to look at her companions, as if asking 'well, what are you waiting for?' It seemed as if even Hermione had found a new sense of freedom with her animagus form.

The voices had become clearer the closer they came to the door, and they were finally able to discern four or five different voices. The Headmaster and Madam Pomphrey were two of those present, and Harry was surprised to hear his father's voice as well. The others were unfamiliar, but from the conversation they could only guess that they were from St. Mungo's. Harry had motioned for the three of them to move into a shadowed corner near the door, partially hidden by a statue of a strange, bearded man with a python draped around his shoulders.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I don't know what to tell you. I have never run across anything like this before in my life. I don't know of anything that can be done," one voice said, sounding more than slightly panicked.

"Then what have you discovered? Trust me when I say that any information you can provide would be most welcomed," Dumbledore's voice said. There was a heavy sigh, and the second unfamiliar voice began to speak.

"There is almost no brain activity. Two sectors of the child's mind are still active, one of which controls his basic bodily functions. The second…I honestly don't know what purpose there is to the activity. And it is quite strange as well, even from a non-medical viewpoint."

"Strange, you say? In what way?" Harry jerked when he heard his father speak, his ears straining to decipher the conversation.

"Well…the second brain sector is operating under a...well…the best description would be a pulse of electrical activity. That in itself is unusual, but it also seems to be decreasing in strength and increasing in frequency, almost as if it were fading out."

"I apologize for prying, Headmaster, but should we be expecting many cases like this in the near future?" The other stranger asked.

"Unfortunately, you may. This is one of the Serpent's Children—yes, the same the Ministry tried to exterminate so many years ago—and I fear there are many more out there in a similar condition," Dumbledore said, his voice sounding old and tired for a brief moment. There was silence, and a sudden gasp.

"Headmaster—forgive me, but—" Snape began, and Harry jerked his head up in surprise. What was happening?

"Go, Severus, and be safe."

The heavy wooden door flew open and shut again, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione, hunched farther into the shadows as they watched the dark form of Professor Snape disappear down the corridor at a run, his face pale in the wavering light. Harry couldn't help but let out a small whine as he watched him go. Ron and Hermione stood by his side, silent but with eyes wide. Even if they could have, they knew that there was nothing that could have been said.

--------------

Something wasn't right, Severus thought as he approached the large, rickety structure that served as Voldemort's current hideout. He hadn't been able to shake the feeling since the first subtle burning of the Mark on his arm. There had never been a meeting that hadn't set his nerves on edge, or his mind on the lookout for any sign of danger. But there was something unnamable about this particular summoning that was almost ominous. It felt very much like he was walking willingly into a werewolf's den with 'dinner' written across his forehead. He couldn't shake the feeling, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment. The information he gained from Voldemort's little 'meetings' was always invaluable to Dumbledore and to the Ministry, and now also played a major role in keeping his son safe. And that, Severus knew, was the most important reason of all.

The first thing he saw upon his arrival in the large, dimly lit meeting room was Malfoy's firstborn son, Vanus, standing rigidly next to the Dark Lord's throne. The boy's lips quirked for a moment as he caught sight of him, but it was enough to send a tremor down Severus' spine. So, Lucius' son was now the Dark Lord's favorite, was he? Severus thought, his eyes narrowing as he knelt respectfully before the throne. All corners of the room were quickly filling with masked Death Eaters, each pausing to pay the proper respect to the Dark Lord.

Voldemort was seated upon his usual throne-like chair, the wood carved with the visage of many coiling snakes. Nagini was draped languidly over the back of the chair, her pink tongue flicking through the air, yellow eyes staring around the room in what could only be amusement. The circular stone room seemed to fade even darker into shadow as the Dark Lord rose to his feet, black robes falling like water from his skeletal frame. Vanus took a step back from his place beside the throne, showing his respect by hiding his face in the shadows.

"Welcome, my Death Eaters," Voldemort hissed, pale face twisted with a pleased grin. His eyes were half closed as he crossed his arms and looked them each in the eye, taunting them with something only he was privy to. "How good of you all to be so…prompt," he said, his eyes again focusing on Severus.

"I have news that should please you." Voldemort approached the group slowly, his mouth home to an unpleasant smile. The words escaped in a low hiss, and Severus was suddenly quite sure that he wouldn't be 'pleased' by the news at all. The hairs on the back of his neck were rising in warning, sending shivers up and down his spine.

"Several of you will have the honor of going on a very special mission for me. By tomorrow all doubt of my return shall be eradicated from the wizarding world. Every witch, wizard, and child shall fear my name again," Voldemort hissed with frightening conviction. His eyes were narrowed to fiery slits, the sharp lines of his face not unlike a marble statue in the poor light. More than a few Death Eaters shifted uneasily under that gaze, some for the first time realizing the unshakeable strength of the Dark Lord's will. He began a slow circumference of the room, passing in front of each Death Eater in turn as if hunting for suitable prey.

"Beauxbaton's will have fallen by noon," the Dark Lord said, paper-white lips twitching briefly into the faintest semblance of a smile. A dull murmur rose like a wave from the back of the sea of black robes and silver masks, subsiding shortly thereafter like a wave upon the seashore. "In fact, quite a few of my Serpent's Children are prepared to attack once I give the call. It's almost pitiful how easy it will be to bypass Beauxbaton's wards…." Voldemort's strange, dry laughter echoed through the room, sounding much more like the laughter of a Ghoul or Dementor than of someone that was supposedly human.

Severus nearly jerked in surprise when Voldemort suddenly stopped in front of him, facing the far wall. His spider-like arms were folded behind his back and his face seemed to be drawn with idle contemplation.

"Does that trouble you, Severus?" the Dark Lord said calmly, still turned away from his followers. Severus blinked and straightened respectfully, inclining his head stiffly to his 'master.'

"No, my Lord," Severus said as calmly and with as much determination as he could muster. Though his voice and expression betrayed nothing, his mind was frantically racing to grasp the situation. Why had he been singled out? Had his true loyalties been discovered? Severus forced his mind to remain on track, his eyes automatically watching the Dark Lord's expression out of the corner of his vision.

Severus flinched back as Voldemort suddenly spun on his heel, the sound of his boots scraping on stone, the only thing louder than the increasing beat of Severus' heart. Crimson eyes were narrowed and blazing, the pale lips drawn into a tight, indecipherable line.

"Oh? The thought of all those _innocent_ children, dying in their sleep...does it not make you want to _warn_ them, perhaps?" Voldemort said in a low hiss, his lips pulling back from sharp yellow teeth.

"I assure you my Lord, it does not. I shall do whatever you command," Severus said, struggling to inject the correct portion of disbelief into his voice. The surrounding Death Eaters were slowly backing away, whispering quietly among one another. If anything, Voldemort only seemed to gain more confidence from the confusion among his followers.

"Are you sure you don't mean whatever _Dumbledore_ commands?" Voldemort's right hand shot forward like a pale spider pouncing upon its prey. The resulting wave of magical energy struck Severus in the chest like a battering ram, sending him sailing back through the rows of Death Eaters to slam painfully into the far wall. His head snapped back against the damp stone with a solid _crack_. He was dimly aware of something warm and wet trickling down his neck, but the world seemed to have suddenly become something strangely blurred and distant. He'd barely had time to register the fact that Voldemort was standing before him once again, before one of his pale hands was wrapped around his throat with surprising strength. The other hand now held Severus' own dark wand.

"Don't try to lie to me Severus. I know that you are a spy for my enemy. You've been keeping quite a few things from me, it seems," Voldemort purred, and Severus could nearly see the magic crackling in the air, leaping like sparks within the Dark Lord's eyes. The world was slowly sliding back into focus, and Severus concentrated on regaining the clear state of mind that he'd spent so many years struggling to attain. It had saved his life and others on many occasions, and he could only hope that it would do the same for him now.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Severus gasped, the fingers clenched painfully around his throat transforming the words into a harsh rasp. Voldemort's grip tightened, and Severus winced as his bruised shoulders scraped upward along the stone, his feet dangling a foot above the floor beneath him. A voice in the back of his mind was screaming for him to lash out, to devote every last bit of his energy to reclaiming his wand, but his rational mind knew better. If he did anything now, if he dared to fight back, the Death Eaters would be shooting several dozen 'Avada Kedavra's' his way before he'd gotten within ten feet of the nearest exit.

"Oh, I think you do. I think you've been lying to me about dear Zachary as well," Voldemort hissed, his mouth curving with amusement, as if he could read the thoughts that were even now circling through Severus' panicked brain. The name sparked a sudden surge of adrenaline through Severus' veins, his eyes snapping wide with anger and desperation.

"You leave him out of this!" Severus growled, his breath coming in quick pants against the constriction of his throat. Voldemort laughed loudly, and dropped him to the ground so quickly that Severus' couldn't help but collapse to his knees.

"I think not. Rather, I have an interesting theory on the subject," Voldemort purred, watching Severus as he knelt carefully massaging his throat. "First, consider the boy's age-he was obviously conceived around the same time as Vanus here. Then there is his sudden transfer to Hogwarts. Suspicious even under normal circumstances. And then there is the fact that you didn't find it fit to tell me about him until recently—I have to wonder about the _why_ of it all." Voldemort mused, idly twirling Severus' wand between his fingers. "Let me elaborate…Severus, did you know that Hogwart's is the only place in all of Europe that _directly_ blocks my power?" he continued, and Severus only glared at him, all pretenses of loyalty evaporated entirely. "I imagine you did, and I am also willing to bet that that is the very reason why you moved Zachary there," Voldemort said, his expression not dissimilar to that of a cat toying with a trapped rabbit.

"_I moved him there to be closer to me!_ Why would I need to keep him from your power, when I could have merely kept him hidden away at another private school!" Severus roared, unable to explain the anger even now surging through his veins. As long as it was only himself that was in danger, he could accept whatever fate threw his way. But now that Harry had been brought into the equation, nothing, not even the length of his own life seemed important.

"Severus…you always were the cleverest of my Death Eaters. I truly will be sorry to cause your death. Pity, really. But—your question has an answer that I simply couldn't overlook. And that is this; you moved your son to Hogwart's because he is one of _my_ Serpent's Children. _Mine!_ You simply couldn't bear to have your son forced to serve me, so you separated him from yourself. But then I began summoning my Children, and you were forced to move him to the only place he would be safe from my power." Voldemort had slipped Severus' wand into one of his pockets as he spoke, and slipped his own, slightly shorter wand from the same pocket. He held it delicately, like a director's baton preparing to signal the first note of a grand composition.

"Impressive theory, but you'll never get a chance to test it." Severus rose steadily from the ground and held himself with the pride and stubborn determination that only a trained pureblood could manage, and fixed his black stare on the Dark Lord's narrowed expression. The amused smile had disappeared from the man's face, replaced by a look of slight irritation.

"Oh, I think I'll get the chance sooner than you think. You don't really think I'm destroying Beauxbaton's for the hell of it, do you? That school has _never_ been a threat. Vanus here retrieved all the information I needed from them. Tell me, clever professor, can you think of another reason I could have for attacking it?" Voldemort's mouth had curved into a slight smile again, and Severus felt all of the color drain from his face, the confident mask he wore falling like a stone from the sky.

"A distraction…." He whispered, eyes widening with the full implications of those two simple words.

"Correct. Five points to Slytherin, Severus," Voldemort laughed, and then turned to the side quickly. Severus watched as a familiar blonde stepped forward, head bowed, and lips curved with a superior smirk. "Lucius, take twenty Death Eaters with you to Beauxbatons. Vanus is already there with a number of my Serpent's Children. I have already instructed him on what is to be done," the Dark Lord commanded, and instantly a group of Death Eaters began to separate from the others.

"At once, my Lord," Lucius said shortly, though the smirk on his face seemed to have faded by a fraction.

"As for the rest of you…I believe our dear professor needs to be taught a lesson," Voldemort said, purposefully turning his gaze back onto Severus. "Torture at will, but do not kill him. I want his son to have that _honor_."

----------------

Lucius Malfoy was a man who prided himself on knowing everything about anything he deemed worth his time. He had contacts in every branch of the Ministry, at least one within every major school, and more often than not, acted as a personal sounding board for the Dark Lord himself. He had been, therefore, quite perturbed when he felt the Dark Mark burn without prior notice. He _always_ knew when to expect a meeting, even of the unofficial variety. Oh, he'd still Apparated away in a blink of an eye, pausing only long enough to change his clothes and don his black cloak and silver mask, but he hadn't been happy about it. If _he_ didn't know what was going on, then either something very bad had happened, or someone else had known before him. And Lucius didn't particularly like either option.

Therefore, he'd been quite surprised and nothing short of furious when he'd seen Vanus standing at the Dark Lord's side, in _his_ usual place. Aside from himself only Wormtail had ever stood at the Dark Lord's side, but the rat was more of a servant than anything else. He wasn't worthy of jealousy, even if there had ever been a cause for it. Lucius had always been a man quick to anger and jealousy, but he'd never imagined he'd feel the latter toward his own son. He'd have to do something about that…but for the moment his plans would have to wait.

Another surprise had been Severus' little charade. Once, a long time ago, Lucius had considered the man a good friend of his, but that had ended along with the Dark Lord's first reign. When Severus had admitted to being a spy for Dumbledore under Veritaserum before a court and jury, any sort of friendship he had held towards him had ended in one bitter instant. Ever since, Lucius found it a struggle to tolerate the man's mere presence. Oh, he was always civil—it would have been improper to be anything less—but he was _never_ amiable in the slightest.

Lucius couldn't help but admire Severus though, even if he would never admit it to anyone short of Merlin himself. The man had been clever enough to spy on the most powerful wizard in the world not once, but _twice_. Even Lucius had believed that Severus was once again a loyal Death Eater. Of course, Lucius himself wasn't a pushover when it came to subterfuge—he was a rather powerful and respectable force in the Ministry. Fooling idiots like Fudge though was quite different than slipping by the Heir of Slytherin unnoticed for as long as Severus had. And now that Severus had been discovered…well, Lucius couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of sorrow. It would be a shame for a man as clever and truly brilliant as Severus Snape to die. But, that was the fate he had risked, and he supposed it would better for the man to die now rather than after everything he'd fought for came to an end.

The Apparition point closest to Beauxbaton's was a quarter of a mile away from the school, in the dense confines of a forest penetrated by only a few shards of early morning light. The twenty Death Eaters that appeared behind him all began to light their wands dimly, eyes searching the surrounding trees for friend or foe. "Goyle," he hissed to the nearest cloaked figure, a big lumbering wizard that was only a head or so shorter than Hogwart's Gamekeeper.

"Eh?" the man asked after removing his silver mask. The face underneath was rather flat and blank, and mildly surprised at having been called upon. "Yes, you. Go with the others and find the Serpent's Children. You shall inform Vanus that I have important business to attend to, and that I shall return shortly. Do you think you can manage that?" Lucius said, his mouth curved into a vicious sneer and his nose tilted skyward. Goyle only nodded, and headed back into the thinning group of Death Eaters. How fools like that had gotten into Lord Voldemort's service was a question that had plagued Lucius for years. With a quick survey of his surroundings, he straightened his spine and closed his eyes, concentrating on his next destination.

Hogwarts.

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Morning at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry came with gray skies and only a small dent in the usual bustle of activity. A few students of all years rose and sluggishly made their way to the great hall, only partially aware of the passage of time. Most students remained in their dormitories after a long night of partying, choosing to sleep through breakfast rather than battle their own fatigue. Harry Potter, however, was one of the first students in the great hall that morning. It had only been a little more than an hour since the overhead conversation. He'd spent the time until breakfast merely pacing the common room, with visions of his father lying broken and bleeding in the hospital wing even now intruding upon his every thought. Unfortunately, the sight that had greeted him upon entering the great hall did nothing to comfort him. All but one of the Professors was present, most of which kept sending curious glances at the single empty chair.

Desperately he wanted to forgo breakfast entirely and ask Dumbledore the burning questions that lay just on the tip of his tongue. The only thing that forced his feet to head toward the Slytherin table was the realization that Dumbledore didn't know that Harry knew about the Deatheater meeting. Instead, he planned on visiting his father's rooms, classroom, and then the hospital wing before resorting to asking the Headmaster.

He was halfway through his second piece of bacon when Draco Malfoy finally dropped heavily into the seat to his left. His eyes were glazed, his hair was slightly mussed, and his head kept wobbling oddly to the side as if it was a struggle to stay upright.

"How can you be up so early?" Draco moaned, dragging a piece of toast onto his plate as if it weighed more than Dudley.

"I took a sleeping potion," Harry answered with a shrug.

"Well, that explains it. I didn't even see you at the party last night."

"I left early and spied on the Gryffindors…it was more entertaining that watching Crabbe and Goyle experiencing the results of too much Butterbeer."

"Uhg…don't remind me…I'm going to have nightmares about that for the rest of my life," Draco groaned, his face scrunched up as his eyes took in Crabbe and Goyle's empty seats. The two boys probably wouldn't be up for a few more hours at the very least.

The main doors of he great hall suddenly sprung open with a great bang, the wood splintering as it bounced against the walls. A dozen heads turned to the doors as something large and black came soaring through, eyes gleaming a fiery orange. A great eagle-like shriek echoed off the walls as a bird like none other flew toward the roof of the great hall, long tail of black feathers streaming behind it like a banner. The bird looked vaguely like a giant eagle with the head of a vulture and the tail of a peacock, though every feather was midnight black. Everyone in the great hall had frozen to watch the bird as it circled, its great orange eyes scanning the floor of the hall. A few of the teachers had pulled out their wands and held them at the ready, but they too had eyes locked on the black shape.

Harry watched in mild shock as the beast circled above him twice, before dipping low enough to allow a shred of parchment to flutter down to rest on the plate in front of him. Large, crimson script stared back at him from the yellowed paper, looking very much like fresh blood. His throat tightened and his muscles froze as his eyes read the single line, his eyes widening.

_**Hello Zachary,**_

**_Your father is screaming for you._ **

And below that was inscribed in black ink a curving serpent; an exact replica of the Serpent's Mark.

-------End chapter 42------

THANK YOU VERY MUCH TO EVERYONE THAT REVIEWED:)

**Next Chapter:** Dumbledore has a few visitors, more of Lucius' internal monologue (dangit, how do these Malfoy's keep worming their way into my story!) and Harry does something a bit…rash….oh yes, and Sev gets tortured. :( Ah well…I've already started on it, so it'll hopefully end up being MUCH better than this chapter.


	43. Lesser Demons

**Disclaimer**:: Harry Potter (Snape!) and company are property of J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N::**  Yes yes…I know. Six months. I plead guilty, your honor. As for this chapter…I apologize. It was actually fifteen pages long…but it is now only eight. Why? Because I decided it would work better if I hacked off the end and used it to begin chapter 44. So…I do apologize for such a short and…unfulfilling chapter after such an inexcusably long…erm…sabbatical?

**Regarding Book 5::**  This story will not be changed to accommodate book five. In the beginning I stated that this was an AU, and so it shall remain. There may be a few casual references (say, to Kingsley Shacklebolt etc for example) but nothing even worthy of mention. I loved the book! (*cackles* I WAS RIGHT ABOUT JAMES!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!) Makes me wonder what else I guessed correctly…*poke* Sev and Lily sittin' in a tree…K-I-S-S-I-N-G, First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Harry in a baby carriage….*snicker*  Okay! Okay! Down plot bunny, down….no need to scare the LJ folks….But to the point….

I'm Back.

I'm Bad.

Run far, far away.

A Father's Sin

by _Severitus_

Chapter 43—Lesser Demons

            His hands were shaking. Harry barely noticed the yelling in the background and the angry screeching of the monsterish bird—his entire world had been reduced to the single page of parchment trembling in his grasp. Draco was saying something—the Hufflepuffs were screaming as the bird swooped low, sharp beak snapping dangerously. There was a flash of reddish light and an unearthly shriek as a professor's stunning spell took the beast to the ground. 

            "Zack! Snap out of it!" Draco shook his shoulder roughly, the letter jerking out of his line of sight. Slowly Harry's eyes slid back into focus, his fist clenching around the parchment still in his hand. "What's the matter?" Draco asked. Dumbledore and several professors were now standing in the middle of the hall, inspecting the stunned bird with the toes of their boots.

"Nothing," Harry ground out tersely, though his hands were shaking and Draco looked anything but convinced. 

            "Right." The blonde Slytherin stared at him with one eyebrow raised, obviously not willing to let the matter rest.

            "I _said_ it's nothing." Harry slid from his seat and stalked out of the Great Hall, struggling to control the shaking of his hands. The students were still in an uproar…only a few sparing him a terrified glance as he swept past, eyes daring anyone to say a word. He didn't know where exactly he was going…only that his feet were carrying him briskly toward the dungeon stairs. The hallways were mercilessly empty—with most students either still sleeping or back in the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry couldn't even remember going down the stairs or traversing the dark dungeon hallway when his feet finally brought him to a stop before a familiar door. 

It was the door his father's rooms. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry whispered the password and pushed open the door, eyes squinting into the darkness beyond the doorway. "Hello?" he called softly, desperately hunting for any sign that his father had returned in the night…that Voldemort had been lying. His father would be asleep in his bedroom, unharmed and probably grumpy because of the hour…it'd all be worth a great laugh later. Not bothering the light the torches, Harry crept further into the darkness, hand grasping the shining brass knob of the bedroom door. He pushed it open a crack, allowing a thin band of light to fall across the stone floor. 

            "Dad…?" he called softly, ears strained for the faintest sound of life. "Dad? Are you awake?" he called, bolder this time. Pushing the door further open, he stepped into the dark room, eyes finally discerning the bed from the darkness. "Inflamarae!" he hissed, wand thrust toward the nearest torch on the wall. The sconce flared with light, chasing the shadows to the further corners of the room. "Dad…" Harry called one last time, voice faltering at the sight of the empty bed, covers still smooth and untouched. 

The numb feeling first caused by the letter crumpled in his hands seemed to spread. He couldn't think. He couldn't move. His eyes were fixed on the cold four-poster as if it had suddenly come to life. Whether it was unwilling or unable to, his mind could think of nothing but the emptiness of the room…a feeling only intensified by the room's naturally bare state.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught the glimpse of something gleaming in the torchlight. Almost unconsciously he turned toward it, noticing for the first time that the mantle above the fireplace was no longer bare. A single picture frame sat in the very center, the simple oak frame carved with sparse intertwining vines. Almost reverently, Harry lifted the picture and stared at it with wide eyes, a sob threatening to break free of his chest.

It was a picture of him. He didn't know when it had been taken, nor could he be sure by whom. He was sitting on his father's couch with a book opened in his lap, occasionally lifting a quill to his lips. Every now and then his picture self would frown at a page, flipping back through the book as if looking for something he'd missed. Harry watched helplessly as a tear fell to the glass over the photo…splashing into a tiny starburst before sliding down toward the polished frame. It felt as if he'd finally found something he'd never realized he'd been missing. He remembered the Dursley's mantle…filled to capacity with unflattering photos of Dudley in a manner than bordered on worship. The Weasleys, too, had a mantle lined with photos--one current picture of each child surrounding a large family photo. It was a mantle that showed nothing but love and warmth, and the pride of two parents for their family. Gently, Harry set the picture back up on the mantle, taking a step back to stare at it. Compared to the others, the mantle still looked strangely bare and empty…lonely, almost. But to Harry it was something entirely different. It was a beginning…and it was love. And that was not something he was going to give up.

"Harry?" The soft, familiar voice came from the doorway, and Harry whirled around in surprise.

"Headmaster?" he asked, struggling to wipe the tear-tracks from his eyes on the back of his sleeves. The ancient wizard approached slowly, dark purple robes swirling even despite the absence of a breeze.

"I thought I might find you here, Harry," Dumbledore said, pausing beside him to stare at the picture on the mantel. The wrinkles and weathered paths of the old wizard's face softened briefly, mouth curving into a brief smile. "You know, for many years I feared that your father would never allow himself to care for anyone ever again. Sometimes I even wondered if he'd hidden his soul for far too many years and had forgotten that he was just as human as the rest of us." Dumbledore turned an amused smile to him, eyes sparkling in the way that only Dumbledore's could. "But, as you young people often do, you two proved me wrong. And I must say that I've never been happier to be wrong in my life." Dumbledore paused, his eyes growing distant for a moment as his thoughts drifted inward. When he continued, his voice was almost sad. "You've been his salvation, Harry, in so many ways. And he's prouder of you than you can imagine."

"He is?" Harry couldn't help but ask. Even now, it was hard to imagine anyone being proud of him…especially his father. Harry supposed he'd spent too many years with the Dursleys to be able to accept such things easily.

"Oh yes. He can't stop talking about you whenever I invite him up for tea…Why, I fear even Molly Weasley would be hard-pressed to match him," Dumbledore said, his half-moon glasses brightly catching the firelight.

"Now I know you're joking," Harry admonished, turning his gaze to the mantle once again, though he couldn't prevent the small quirk of his lips. His father, the dreaded Head of Slytherin behaving like Molly Weasley…the very thought was terrifying!

"Only a little. He does speak of you frequently and he asks the staff about your progress. It's easy to see how much he cares about you, even to those not well acquainted with him. The rest of the staff have never been happier…I haven't received a single complaint about him these past few months. And believe me, that _is_ saying something,"  Dumbledore whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. Harry only smiled briefly, his mood once again turning somber.

"It's still kind of hard to believe…having a father, I mean. …" Harry said softly, his throat tightening. Sirius, Remus, Hermione, Hagrid and all the Weasley's were the closest thing he'd ever had to a family before. He could talk to them and depend on them, and even look up to them when he needed to, but that still wasn't quite what he'd been missing all his life. But his father…his father had become something he'd never known before, something that he'd never been able to find in his friends or the pitiful excuse for a family that was the Dursleys. His father was a shoulder to cry on without feeling embarrassed, a towering presence to shield him when he could no longer protect himself. His father was safety and comfort…someone he could please and make proud…someone that quite possibly loved him the way only a father could. _That_ was what Hermione and the Weasley's had always had that he hadn't…_that_ was what he'd always wished for more than anything-- someone who would always, always be there.

The parchment crackled in his hand and he clenched his fist, glazed expression transforming with growing hatred. Voldemort had his father now. Had him, and was torturing him…probably taunting him at every turn. Harry couldn't stop the images that his imagination conjured…of his father lying curled on the ground, screaming, bleeding, no longer the stone-cold professor that could stare a Manticore to tears.

 "I don't think I need to ask what was in that letter." Dumbledore's voice was low and emotionless, though it almost seemed to carry a hint of a warning. Harry turned to him with cold eyes, waiting. "I know it's not much, Harry, but I'm doing everything I can to bring him back to us." Harry said nothing at first, his eyes fixed on the photo atop the mantle with a blazing intensity.

"I want to help," he said, his voice low and colder than it had ever been. Dumbledore sighed beside him, the torchlight flashing briefly in his moon-shaped spectacles as he pushed them up on his nose.

"You know that's not possible, Harry…" he began, but Harry seemed to swell with anger as he interrupted, green eyes brighter than the firelight.

"I know that I won't just stand by while the only person who's ever loved me is tortured and possibly killed. I know I _can't_ stand by while my father is locked in some dungeon, dying at the hands of that monster…" Harry ended in a hiss, his teeth ground together and jaws clenched so tightly that it bordered on pain.

"Harry, you have no choice. There is nothing you can do for him outside of this castle. Beyond these grounds, you could easily _become_ your father's torturer. Do you understand that, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry hissed, though he honestly didn't care. "If Voldemort were to summon the Serpent's Children while I was outside the wards…my mind would disappear. I'd be a puppet."

"Exactly. And how do you think your father would feel about that? He would be crushed, Harry. It would kill him just as easily as any Killing Curse." Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder, turning his gaze to the lone picture on the mantle. Harry's voice was softer when he replied, but filled with no less determination than it had ever been.

"I won't lose three parents, Headmaster." Harry looked at the picture, and then to the Headmaster, his expression drawn and blank. It was then that it struck the old wizard just how much the boy looked like his father. He'd seen that very same expression on Severus' face when he was near the same age, standing in the Headmaster's office with his left forearm displayed like a shameful secret. The only difference in that moment was the eyes…one dark as the deepest night, and the other brighter than the purest emerald. It made the old man wonder just how far the similarities between the two went….

"We'll bring him back to us, Harry. But I need you to promise me that you _won't leave Hogwart's grounds_." Dumbledore's voice was laced with warning, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. Harry sucked in a breath and nodded stiffly, knuckles white around Voldemort's letter.

"I promise," he said, struggling to sound as sincere as he possibly could. He hated saying it…hated lying to the man who had done so much for him in his life. Perhaps it was the Slytherin in him, but he knew that this was one battle that could not be won by openness or honesty, or perhaps even with integrity. He _would_ do what needed to be done, so long as it brought his father back. Dumbledore's smile was wide at the reply, and he gave Harry a hearty pat on the back when he again spoke.

"That's a good boy. Now, why don't you—" Dumbledore stopped as an odd ringing sound seemed to emanate from the walls of the room itself, "Oh dear, it seems I have a visitor. Well, I must be off Harry…I'll be in my office if you need to talk." Dumbledore gave his shoulder one last squeeze before slipping out of the room, leaving it somewhat darker and colder than it had been before.

            Turning one last glance to the empty bed, Harry extinguished the torches and followed the Headmaster's path slowly out of the room. The halls were still empty as he climbed the dungeon stairs once again, eyes unfocused and feet carrying him somewhere and nowhere at once. It wasn't until he heard the castle's main doors slam shut with a 'bang' that he bothered to look up.

            The last person he had expected to see was walking quickly away from the doors, heading toward the Headmaster's office. Harry would have recognized the long blonde hair and stiff profile anywhere…Lucius Malfoy had come to Hogwarts. Harry's first reaction upon seeing Malfoy Sr. in the halls of Hogwarts had been to reach for his wand first and ask questions later. Instead, he'd slipped behind a nearby statue to avoid the blonde Death Eater's gaze. He had a feeling that Lucius' presence had little to do with Draco, and a lot to do with the note he'd received this morning. His jaws were clenched tightly as he watched the man stride out of sight, behaving every bit as if he owned the ground he walked upon. However, his anger had bred a plan within his mind, and before a minute had passed Harry was speeding out the main doors, unaware of the three sets of eyes following his every move.

-------------

Lucius arrived at the gates of Hogwarts when the sun was still just a sliver on the far horizon. Most of the sane world was still in bed, but the sanity of the man he had come to see was something debated by many. The huge iron gates to the school shone dully beneath the cloudy sky, though practically vibrating with magical energy as he approached. The two statues of winged boars that sat to either side regarded him coolly, their blank eyes narrowed with consideration. With a great sigh of irritation, Lucius thumped his cane against the gate twice and cleared his throat. "I seek admittance to call upon the Headmaster," he said clearly. Goosebumps rose up on his skin as the magic of the school's new wards sought him out, sensing the mark upon his arm and then evaluating his intentions. He almost breathed a sigh of relief as the energy dissipated and the gates swung open with a great metallic squeal. Even _he_ didn't know what would have happened if his intentions had been found to be 'unworthy.'

            The worn pathway leading to the castle's main entry was an almost painfully familiar one. His years at Hogwarts had been the best time of his life. He could remember walking this same path countless times after visits to Hogsmeade, trading Chocolate Frog cards with his friends or laughing when one of them devoured a vomit flavored Every-Flavor-Bean. Shaking his head to clear the memories, he continued on through the empty hallways towards the Headmaster's office. Giving one last proper tug to the sleeves of his robe, he hardened his expression and rapped his serpent-headed cane firmly on the door.

            A faint tinkling like a teacup settling on a saucer faded through the door, followed by the shuffling of slippered feet. The door creaked open a moment later to reveal Albus Dumbledore, looking far too cheerful for the break of dawn.

"Ah, good morning Mr. Malfoy. I must say I didn't expect any visitors so early. Won't you join me for a cup of tea?" Dumbledore asked, stepping aside and waving his hand into the office in invitation. Judging by the presence of a second steaming teacup on the desk, Lucius would have bet all the gold in Gringotts that Dumbledore had indeed been expecting him. Without a second glance, he swept past the elderly Headmaster, tapping his cane habitually on the ground before sinking gracefully into the high-backed chair set across from the desk.

            "Morning, Dumbledore. But let's drop the pretenses, shall we? I believe that I have a bit of information that you'll be most…grateful for, shall we say." Carefully adjusting the hem of his sleeves yet again, Lucius watched Dumbledore's expression out of the corner of his eye, but his expression was nearly blank. Instead of reacting to the obvious gravity of the situation, Dumbledore merely sighed and closed the door, looking slightly disappointed as he slid back behind his desk. Fawkes the Phoenix was perched on the back of the chair, one amber eye fixed carefully on Lucius as if considering which steel gray eye he should poke out first.

            "One moment, please," Dumbledore said, raising his ancient wand and giving it a few careful flicks. The edges of the room seemed to glow a faint blue for a moment, and faded away with an audible 'click.' "This has to do with Voldemort and my missing staff member, I presume?" Dumbledore asked tiredly, sipping casually from the cup of peppermint tea steaming from a chipped china cup.

            "Oh yes, nothing less could bring me back here again," Lucius replied with a snarl, well remembering the last time he'd been in Dumbledore's office. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been so humiliated before in his life as when that stupid Potter boy had lost him his house elf. "I'm prepared to give you some information that I've come into possession of." The look on Dumbledore's face this time was obviously surprise. Lucius took much delight in the fact that at least the old fool hadn't been expecting that much.

            "And, what is it that you ask in return?" Dumbledore said carefully, his eyes suddenly sharp, their usual twinkle transformed into an almost deadly gleam.

            "Ah, you know me too well. Let's just say that I'd like certain…assurances about my safety should this war not turn out like I expect." Lucius leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs in mock indifference.

            "I believe something can be arranged. I trust you know what must be done?" Dumbledore asked, taking his own wand into his hand again. Lucius nodded stiffly, unsheathing his wand from the shaft of his cane. He had expected no less on coming to Dumbledore. No matter what anyone claimed, the man was not one to make foolish mistakes.

            "I do." Lucius spoke the words stiffly, and they both raised their wands vertically between them, the tips nearly level with their eyes. 

            "I swear upon my wand, my power, and my soul that the words I shall speak are truth. Should I speak mistruth or break the oath I give, may my life perish. With Merlin as my binding witness, my word is my life," Lucius and Dumbledore recited together, blue eyes locked on gray. When the words were complete, they extended their wands to point directly at one another, and each began to glow with a faint white light. The light grew steadily brighter, collecting just above the handle of each wand. The smell of burning wood flared briefly in the air, until the light disappeared with a flash, and each wand was left with an overturned '8' burned deeply into the wood. Dumbledore's now possessed two such marks, one slightly above the other on the length of the wand.

            "Now," Lucius began, sliding the wand soundlessly back into the shaft of the cane. "I believe we have some business to complete…."

-----

            The ragged scream that echoed off the cement walls of the dank basement was enough to shake sawdust from the rotting rafters above. The cold laughter of Marcus LeStrange echoed off the same walls, somehow more chilling than the preceding scream. "Not so arrogant now, are you Severus?" LeStrange sneered, twirling his thin hickory wand between thumb and forefinger. The dark figure crumpled on the ground before him only moaned, rolling one dark eye to stare bitterly at the sneering wizard's face. His long black hair was plastered to his face with sweat and blood, tracks of crimson still flowing steadily from his mouth and ears. Vicious red welts had been raised along his arms, where the material was ripped so badly that it stayed on only for the sake of a few sparse threads. 

"I've always hated you, you know," LeStrange mused, eyes rolling skyward as his thoughts drifted inward. "Always so smart, always so…perfect at everything. In school, in dueling, in serving the Dark Lord…I hate you for it all. I always wondered how such a bastard could make it so far…" LeStrange tipped his wand toward the crumpled figure again, pale lips twisting in satisfaction. "But now you've fallen and broken into a thousand pieces, haven't you. Caught in your act, too slow…too slow…." 

The man's muttering turned unintelligible as his eyes glazed over, what sanity he had remaining drifting away once again. Severus took the moment to breathe a sigh of relief. Azkaban had driven Marcus LeStrange more than a little insane. At times he possessed the calculated cunning of a true murderer… a mastermind in his own right, and at others he was no better than a gibbering child, lost and confused within the chaos of his own thoughts. It would be at least a few minutes before he came back to himself again.

With a low moan, Severus dragged himself to his knees, the world spinning wildly. Every muscle felt alive with fire, feeling as if muscle and tendon were ripping and tearing with every move he made. The Cruciatus Curse was one of LeStrange's favorites, and the Death Eater had been very enthusiastic about his chance to torture the uncovered spy. As much as he hated to admit it, there was nothing Severus could do about his situation at the moment. There were at least two guards posted near his cell, both experienced Death Eaters that he'd have been wary of dueling even while in top form. He still had a few potions hidden in the hems of his robe, but none of them would do him any good at the moment. He needed someone else to make a distraction at the very least…something that would allow him time to get to the potions and use them….

"CRUCIO!" Severus collapsed to the ground again, mouth opened wide in a silent scream as the brief curse raged through his body. "There there, Snape…stay on the ground, dogs should lick my boots not stare in my eyes…and a dog you are, Snape…oh yes. A loyal beggar…you've learnt many tricks too, haven't you. I think I'll teach you a new one…"

----End Chapter 43----

A/N:  Yes, another cliffhanger…but I couldn't in good conscience let this sit around any longer. *sigh* Fare thee well, and I hope you enjoyed! HAPPY BELATED HALLOWEEN!!! : )


	44. Close, But No Cigar

Disclaimer: Property of J.K Rowling. Any copyright infringement is unintentional. Any places or things not recognized as property of J.K. Rowling and Warn Brothers, is intellectual property of me. Thanks. : )

**A/N**: Semester's done, semester's done, one week of freedom 'til I start again…la la la….

**Dedicated To:** All the people who are nice to retail sales-folk. WE LOVE YOU::hugs:

Chapter 44- Close, But No Cigar

-----

The early morning air of Glasgow was crisp, with frost coating the edges of the damp streets, and wilting the leaves of potted plants carelessly left on windowsills overnight. A light mist hung low on the streets, rolling in with the neighboring sea and disappearing in the growing sunlight. A few flakes of snow had begun falling from the gray sky, slowly collecting in gutters and alleys. The streets were mostly quiet, save for those few willing to brave the morning chill. One such pair, a man and his dog, sat on the cold ground in a narrow alley, eating a few biscuits out of a folded napkin. The dog, in a strangely human manner, turned it's large blue eyes to the man and growled, his large frame shaking in the cold. The man glared back and tossed half a biscuit onto the napkin on the ground between them.

"Oh, quit grumbling Padfoot. At least you have fur," the sandy-haired man said, pulling his tattered coat tighter around his thin shoulders. Suddenly, there was a loud 'pop,' and a shivering, dark-haired man sat in the dog's place, bits of frost caught in his wild mane.

"I'll keep grumbling until we either find the git we're looking for or you decide that we can wait someplace warmer. I may have fur, but a cold rear brings no joy to man or mutt." Sirius squirmed uncomfortably as if to prove to his point.

"Well, I suppose I should start calling you 'Blue Butt' instead of 'Padfoot' because we're _not_ going anywhere," Remus said, before reaching over and flicking a crumb from the tip of Sirius' nose. "And besides, with our notorious luck we'd miss the guy we're supposed to be following."

"Big loss. I don't even know why we were supposed to be following this guy anyway."

"Paddy—" Remus began, but instead jerked back in surprise as a whirlwind of brightly colored feathers burst into existence. A loud, desperate trill accompanied the sudden appearance of the phoenix, the lingering frost melting away in the bird's presence though it gave off no heat.

"Fawkes…?" Sirius asked, holding out his arm for the bird to land on. "He's got a note." Stroking the phoenix's ruffled feathers, he carefully took the note from the proffered leg and handed it to Remus to read. Amber eyes widening, Remus stared in mild surprise as the note burst into flame after having been read.

"Change of plans, Sirius," Remus began, and his expression was drawn and slightly troubled. "Severus has been captured, and you and I are going on a rescue mission."

"What! You're kidding! Snape's far too stubborn to be captured." Sirius was gaping in shock, but somehow managed to look a tiny bit grateful as well. After all, a rescue mission meant no more snow….

"His cover was blown last night. The Dark Lord sent Harry a note this morning taunting him about it, and Lucius Malfoy apparently confirmed the capture this morning as well." Remus clenched one fist suddenly, but his face betrayed nothing of his anger.

"_Malfoy_? Don't tell me he's a spy too…." Sirius grumbled. Pretty soon there wouldn't be any evil Slytherins left to taunt!

"I doubt it. He probably just struck some sort of deal with Dumbledore. He told Dumbledore where Severus is being held. And before you ask, Dumbledore said we can trust him on this." Remus stood slowly and dusted the snow from his trousers, his expression grim.

"Right," Sirius said, and was just as prepared to trust a Malfoy as he was to strip naked and take a swim in the Channel. Although, the swim would probably be preferable... "You don't think that Harry will do anything crazy, do you?"

"Unfortunately I think he will…which is why we should work as quickly as possible." Remus was already heading toward the end of the alley, wand in hand. Sirius leapt up and dashed quickly to his side, absently shaking the snow from his clothing.

"Alright…lead the way. I may hate the git, but I won't let my godson lose another father."

-----

The halls were still mostly quiet when the portrait guarding Gryffindor Tower swung slowly open, and Ron and Hermione stepped yawning into the corridor. Ron's hair was sticking every direction, his eyes still glazed with sleep and his robes rumpled as if he'd never bothered to change for the night. Hermione was looking as prim and proper as ever, though she, too, looked as if she had gotten too little sleep. Therefore, neither was prepared for when a familiar figure suddenly latched onto their robes and pulled them into a shadowy alcove.

"Malfoy--?" Ron began, suddenly wide-awake and red with anger.

"Shhh! Just listen for a minute, please!" the blonde Slytherin hissed, eyes flicking around as if paranoid that someone would hear. His eyes were wide with slight fear, and he looked prepared to bolt at a second's notice.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked quickly, cutting off any retort than her friend had been preparing.

"Zachary," Draco began, and even Ron suddenly froze in place, "He got a note this morning…his dad was discovered as a spy last night."

"Oh no…is he…?" Hermione's hands flew to her mouth, eyes suddenly wide.

"I think he's being held prisoner, because Zack was _angry_." Draco said, barely suppressing a shudder. "My father came to visit Dumbledore this morning; he's just left. Zack saw him… I think he's going to try something very, very stupid."

"Where is he?" Ron asked, and unsheathed his wand in one quick flourish.

"We have to do something, then!" Ron said, looking more than ready to take off into battle at a second's notice. Draco lowered his voice and stepped in closer, his eyes flicking left and right.

"I have an idea, but we have to hurry," he said, and drew them into the deeper shadows.

-----

"Hello, Malfoy," Harry said coldly, his wand raised before him and eyes as sharp and unfeeling as polished emeralds. Lucius turned slowly, one hand tightening imperceptibly over the head of his cane, though he gave no other indication of surprise.

"Ah, young Mr. Snape, I presume?" he purred, eyes narrowed and suddenly piercing, as if to learn the whole of his attacker with one long, searching gaze. The boy, however, remained entirely unaffected, his wand held steady and his long black hair moving softly in the breeze.

"Where is my father?" he asked slowly, each word carrying an undertone that promised pain in a way only the Dark Lord himself could hope to match. Lucius had to admit that he was impressed. The Dark Lord would certainly be pleased to have a boy like this in his service….

"Come now Zachary…that's no way to greet a superior, now is it?" Lucius mocked, allowing his mouth to curve into a smirk.

"Considering that you probably helped torture my dad, I'd say spitting in your face would the only suitable greeting." Zachary's mouth curved slightly, rather as if he'd eaten something sour, and Lucius knew that the idea was very tempting indeed.

"Hmm. Well, I can't argue that. Though I'll have you know _I_ haven't done a thing to Severus…yet. However, I'm sure my Lord has been enjoying himself _very_ much…" Lucius laughed, and smiled to himself as he saw the rage building behind the younger Snape's eyes. His grip on his wand had become white with force, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he grit his teeth together. Oh yes, this boy was very much like his father indeed….

"Where is he!" Zachary growled, his gaze almost feral in the dim light of the forest. Slowly, the boy's expression shifted from enraged to a wicked smile, and Lucius finally realized that the low growling wasn't coming from Zachary, but from something in entirely the opposite direction. Turning slowly, Lucius felt his eyes widen despite himself as he caught sight of the large, truly deadly looking hydra crouched not six feet behind him. It's eyes were all aglow and fixed on him hungrily, all the mouths randomly snapping and gnashing it what Lucius could agree was a frightening sight. "All I have to do is say one little word and Talon will be having you for supper." Zachary looked truly smug now, and Lucius allowed his lip to curl in distaste.

"I'm sure. And I suppose you're going to point out that I can only defend against one of you at a time, yes? I've no doubt that Severus has taught you your fair share of curses, after all." Lucius turned slowly back to face his attacker, maintaining his perfectly constructed attitude despite his sudden nervousness. Oh, he wasn't scared…he was a pure-blooded Death Eater after all, but only a truly insane wizard would not be nervous with a dozen snarling, fang-filled sets of jaws behind them, and one rabid wand-wielding boy in front.

"I can hold my own." Zachary held himself calmly again, eyes revealing nothing of the mind no doubt working quickly within. Lucius smirked slightly, he'd always admired a bit of arrogance in a fellow Slytherin…especially if he knew it was misplaced.

"Your father was _so_ worried about you, you know. He was nearly _begging_ my Lord to leave you be…claiming that no, you're not a Serpent's Child. Quite touching, really…" Lucius purred, taking one slow, deliberate step forward, the fingers of his left hand twitching slightly, as if aching to tear his wand free of his cane.

"Don't Move!" Zachary hissed, his body coiling like a serpent ready for the strike.

"Why not? I just want to tell you where your father is, silly boy…you do look so much like him, you know." Lucius started to take another step forward, cane tapping softly against the dry leaves that coated the ground.

"I warned you…" Zachary growled, and Lucius smirked as the boy opened his mouth and released a loud, rattling hiss.

Lucius heard before he saw the hydra fly toward him in a storm of snapping jaws, flying leaves, and raking claws. The creature howled as Lucius shot forward with unnatural speed, his cane flipping upwards and cracking against Zachary's extended arm with a sickening crunch, wand flying to lie uselessly in the shadows. The boy's howl of pain was cut short as Lucius brutally shoved arm and cane alike to his throat, jerking him to his chest as he whirled them to face the snarling Hydra. Not losing a beat, Lucius slid a small, thin blade form his opposite sleeve and braced the point just below the line of the boy's jaw. Zachary was gasping for breath, his hands clawing at the arm pressing the cane painfully into his windpipe.

"Stupid boy. You didn't honestly think that we Death Eaters knew how to fight only with our wands, did you?" The boy's face lost what little color it, and Lucius allowed himself the pleasure of smirking. "Such a simple spell really…doesn't even need a wand to cast it. For a span of a few moments it makes me move just fast enough to gain the advantage. And, now that I _do_ have the advantage, you will call off your beast and come with me to see my Lord, or I'll simply kill you now and drag your carcass back as further torture for your dear father. Oh, and I would suggest the former…I'm not always that _clean_ when I kill, if your sad excuse for a brain can comprehend my meaning." Lucius smiled darkly as he watched the boy's face pale with shock and rage, a thin line of bright crimson shining in stark relief as it trailed from jaw to the hollow of his throat.

"You…can't kill me…now, Death Eater," Zachary choked out, gasping for breath against the constriction of his throat.

"Oh? And why not?" Lucius asked, though he was more amused by the statement than he let on.

"Because…you'd die…too…before…reach the…ap…apparition…barrier." The boy's startling green eyes flicked up toward him, and then to the large reptile crouched not five feet away, looking ready to spring at the slightest chance.

"Hmm…I must concede that you do have a point." Lucius frowned at the creature, considering the options. It would be pointless to command the boy to call the beast off now, as the brat would obviously much rather die now and have the beast kill him next than willingly go to the Dark Lord. "So…it seems we've reached a bit of a stalemate."

"Tell me…where my father is…and we…can all…walk away from…this." Lucius laughed, dragging the boy a few inches back from the snarling reptile. It had been a long time since he'd dealt with anyone quite so stubborn, or inventive, for that matter. It truly was a pity that the boy's mind would have to be sacrificed…drowned out at the very least by the rest of the Serpent's Children. Either way, he'd have to remember to congratulate Severus for raising such a delightfully Slytherin son.

"Tempting, but no. I'd much rather take you back to my lord one way or another." Lucius dragged the boy back another step, and grimaced slightly as bright red blood began to flow more freely down the back of his hand. "Oops, sorry," he muttered darkly, lessening the pressure of the blade on the boy's throat just slightly. Despite his previous words, he really didn't want to take the boy back dead. Alive was always so much more entertaining….

The hydra stilled abruptly, and Lucius jerked his eyes up to stare at it. Most of it's heads had grown silent, a few of them turned toward the trees someplace just off to the right and behind him. It looked almost as if it were…listening….

"What's it doing, boy?" Lucius demanded, roughly jerking the cane against Zachary's windpipe. The boy's eyes were wide and slightly glazed, the pupil's flicking left and right as if searching for something.

"Don't know," he said softly, trying to move his throat at little as possible. Lucius jerked as he suddenly heard what had caught the Hydra's interest. It was a dull rhythmic sound…almost like something large running very quickly….A dull, rattling hiss broke his concentration, and it took Lucius a moment to realize that it was coming from the boy and _not_ the Hydra.

"What did you tell it?" he demanded, forgoing the shock that the brat was a Parselmouth. As far as he knew, that could very well have been an ability possessed by all the Serpent's Children. The Dark Lord wasn't exactly forthcoming with details about their 'special' talents, after all. Before the boy could answer, there was a loud, snapping crash…and everything happened at once.

The hydra leapt forward at the same time something ripped into his back, shredding robes and flesh like crepe paper. And then Lucius' vision was filled by something huge and silver rearing up before him, and the large, glowing eyes of the Hydra as it shot forward and dug dozens of needle-like fangs deep into his arms. His arms spasmed, the knife and cane dropping to the forest floor, just as pain shot through his left ankle.

Lucius flailed his free arm, dimly aware that he was screaming and that the boy was no longer in his grasp. The huge gray thing reared up before him again, and someplace in the far back of his mind Lucius realized it was an Arabian horse, although certainly far more vicious than any he'd ever seen before. The hydra released him at the same time whatever had sunk its claws into his back leapt away, and he was barely aware of his own ragged breathing as he collapsed to the ground, twitching in shock and pain. His arm felt numb, and his brain was barely able to keep up the onslaught let alone able to wonder why. And in perhaps the strangest menagerie ever seen, a horse, a wildcat, a fox, a hydra, and the trembling form of a young boy surrounded him, watching as his eyes slid shut into unconsciousness.

"Zachary?" Hermione's voice sliced through the darkness, and Harry stood shakily from where he'd collapsed to the ground, one hand pressed to his bleeding throat. His eyes were half-lidded with pain and fatigue, but showed his deep gratitude nonetheless.

"Hi guys," he said sheepishly, wincing as he gingerly picked up his wand with his broken arm, before cradling both against his chest. The small orange fox transformed with a pop a second later, and Ron stood standing in its place, staring worriedly down at the crumpled form of Lucius Malfoy.

"Who's that?" Harry flicked his eyes toward the tall, proud horse standing just off to the side, pawing at the ground almost absently. There was a sudden, soft 'pop' and none other than Draco Malfoy stood there, looking oddly shy for once.

"Hey, Zach," Draco said, and Harry couldn't help but smile and shake his head. He should have guessed, really.

"Listen…don't think I'm not grateful or anything, but…what are you guys doing here?" Hermione huffed indignantly and put her hands on her hips, giving him a glare that even his own father would be pressed to match.

"Not that it should matter, but Draco saw you leaving the castle shortly after his father and was kind enough to inform us of your state of mind. We, of course, wasted no time in following you. It's a good thing we did, too! What were you _thinking_, Zachary? Going up against a full-fledged Death Eater alone…." Harry thought about reminding her of the Hydra, but thought better of it once noting the angry red coloring her cheeks. "You could have been captured! Or killed! Did you ever even stop to think how that would make us feel? Or what that would do to your father? Just imagine what would happen if the Order were to rescue him only for him to be told that you were dead!" Hermione was panting now, her eyes bright with anger, and in that moment Harry truly began to understand just why her Animagus form was that of a wildcat.

Eyes dropped to the ground, Harry refused to lift his gaze after her speech. Truthfully he hadn't spared nary a thought about the consequences of his actions. Again. He hadn't really considered failure to be an option. All he cared about was doing something to rescue his father…he simply couldn't sit by and wait! After the man had risked so much for him, he couldn't bare to do any less in return.

"I know…" Harry moaned, "As usual, I wasn't thinking properly." He sighed and leaned back against a nearby tree, his muscles beginning to feel strangely weak. The Hospital Wing was probably a very good place to be headed very soon. "I just…I needed to do something! I won't let him die…." Hermione's gaze instantly softened, though her hands remained stubbornly on her hips.

"You could have asked us for help, you know. That's what friends are for. And besides, look what we've got now…no offense, Draco…but we've got Lucius Malfoy as our prisoner, and if anyone can tell us where Professor Snape is, it's him." Harry smiled a little, but it was weak. Malfoy Sr. certainly didn't seem like someone that would easily tell them what they wanted to know.

"Erm…he's…he's not dead, is he? We may be at odds, but he is my father…" Draco said, eyes focused on the still form at his feet.

"Nah, it's just the poison from the Hydra. He'll be out for a few hours, that's all," Harry muttered, and Draco sagged in visible relief. The Hydra, having determined its job finished, had ambled back off into the trees in the direction of Hagrid's Hut.

"How did you all get down here so quickly?" Harry asked, watching dispassionately as Hermione levitated the unconscious Malfoy Sr. He could understand Draco's speed, and even Ron's, but Hermione's wildcat form wasn't designed for speed over long distances. Hermione shook her head at the slight change of subject, but tossed her head lightly in Draco's direction.

"I rode him, of course," she said simply, and Harry heard a loud thump as Draco nearly tripped over a root.

"You what!" Harry asked, and noted that Draco had gone so pale he nearly looked worse than his father.

"Merlin! Granger, don't put it like that! I was a horse, not a—" Draco sputtered indignantly, but Hermione huffed and cut him off abruptly.

"Well then, how would you put it?" she huffed, and Draco opened and closed his mouth.

"Well…I…er…" Draco began, and then dropped his voice to a near whisper, "she rode me." Hermione seemed oblivious to their discomfort, and had busied herself conjuring a proper stretcher to slide beneath Malfoy Sr.

"He really is quite a stallion, frankly I was impressed by the length of his—" she began, but Harry dropped his good hand on her shoulder.

"'Mione, for the sake of our virgin ears, stop now," he said, Ron and Draco both nodding in agreement. Hermione sniffed, but silently began ushering the stretcher and it's occupant back through the trees.

"Honestly, I was just going to say I was impressed by the length of his stride…" she mumbled.

----------End 43------------

A/N: Please forgive the last bit, I just couldn't help myself….Oh, and if you're a fan of Van Helsing, please check out my new fic! It's the only reason I got THIS chapter finished! TaTa, and thanks for your patience!


	45. Descent

Notes: Well, I lost the original beginning I had for this chapter. Huh. Long time no see, though! No promises, but it won't be a year this time, I promise. (and besides…my roommate is quite insistent that I finish this thing soon. Apparently there are other things I should be doing. grin)

Regarding HBP: As with OotP, I will largely remain AU. There will be a few spells and places mentioned from HPB, but there is no need to fear spoilers. Onward!

Chapter 45—Descent

In was quiet in the dungeons. The Slytherins had long since cleared out of the dormitories for the day, leaving torches dim and fireplaces empty. And far beneath the castle, in a dungeon cell momentarily forgotten, a sudden exhalation misted into the air. The rhythmic breathing stopped, shuddered, and began again with quiet deliberation. Blank eyes snapped open, seeing nothing in the darkness broken only by the faint blue glow of the binders anchoring the still form to the stone table. The body shifted, fingers flexing and shoulders rolling, vertebrae cracking and loosening with motion. The blue glow flickered, dancing wildly on the damp walls, and the room plunged into complete darkness. A low, flat voice echoed off the walls, saying only,"A-lo-ho-mo-ra." The word was pronounced slowly and deliberately, as if by a child sounding out a word for the first time.

The sound of shoes scraping on stone disrupted the quiet again, and a thin line of light flashed briefly as the door squealed open. The shuffling continued into the hall, and the door closed out the light with a quiet 'click.'

Slowly, each step carefully measured and even, the boy navigated the empty halls. His eyes rarely blinked, and his breath was as measured as a pendulum's swing. As he passed, paintings whispered to each other within their flames, some hissing, "Serpent's Child…" under their breath, as if witnessing something unholy. The boy heard none of this, but continued toward the stairs, his feet carrying him quietly out of the dungeons.

-------

"Sirius…think about this for a second!" Remus cursed, chasing after the black-haired figure racing ahead of him down another alley. Sirius didn't stop or glance his way, but waved a hand behind him dismissively.

"I _have_ thought about it Moony! What other chance do we have?" Sirius called back, before sliding to a stop at the end of an alley. He glanced warily around the corner and out into the street, chest straining against his robes as he panted for breath. Remus slid to a stop behind him, dropping his hands to his knees as he sucked air past the pain in his chest. "Is he still there? What does the charm say?" Sirius panted, his eyes focused on a dark window across the street. The tall, brown building across the street was an entirely wizarding building deep in the heart of muggle Glasgow. It was a teetering stack of apartments that had been around longer than most of the surrounding city. The distant roof looked to be straining under it's own weight, dripping steadily as the icicles dangling precariously from its rim heated in the full-morning sun.

Remus waved his wand briefly in the air, the tip aimed at the window. His eyes glazed as he mumbled softly, then slid back into focus when he looked away. "Yes, he's still there," Remus said, his voice tired and resigned.

"Good. Now, stand back…I've not exactly ever done this before…." Sirius rolled his shoulders as if preparing to enter a boxing ring, and slid a long, lean wand from his sleeve. He aimed the tip to the sky above the street, eyes narrowed and lips curling. "_Morsmodre_!" he spat, the word sounding like something between a snarl and a curse. Remus flinched, and thought he saw Sirius jerk too, as all-too familiar green light burst from the wand tip and into the sky. Almost before the Dark Mark had completely formed in the sky, Sirius was whispering desperately, "Now, Remus!"

With another sigh, Remus tapped Sirius on the head, and then himself, grimacing at the cold, slimy feeling of the disillusionment spell sliding over him. Immediately they pressed their backs to the wall, their bodies blending with the gray-brick behind them. "Have you got it ready?" Sirius asked through the side of his mouth, watching carefully as witches and wizards began to stumble out of the building. Remus didn't answer, but pressed a tiny bramble he'd picked up off the street into Sirius' hand.

They both watched the gathering crowd, Remus struggling to ignore the sound of people crying and shouting in panic when they saw the Mark. Wizards were ducking down alleyways, wands held at the ready, searching for the unfortunate victims that always accompanied the dreaded symbol. Suddenly, Remus' eyes focused on a brown-haired, glowering wizard stalking away from the building, eyeing the sky with a mix of indignation and fear. "Sirius, there! By the lamppost!" Remus hissed, and Sirius snapped into action. He flicked his wand at the tiny bramble sitting on his disillusioned palm, and floated it steadily through the crowd toward the grumbling wizard stalking further away from the chaos. After a moment, it floated down through the air, and attached its miniature thorns to the back of the wizard's robes.

"Tag, you're it," Sirius mumbled, and Remus was sure that underneath the charm, Sirius was smirking.

"So what's next in your brilliant plan?" Remus asked, though his tone wasn't as resigned as before.

"Next, we exit this charming alley before the Aurors arrive and start casting detection charms, and we follow our little tracking charm to the lair of the lizard…"

"Lizard, Sirius?"

"What? You-Know-Who has legs, so he's certainly not a snake!"

"Right. And after we get there?"

"Ask me later."

"You haven't planned that far, have you."

"What does that matter? We can make a plan when we get there." Remus felt Sirius leave the wall beside him, and followed the crunch of footsteps on the loose gravel back down the alley. And, for not the first and certainly not the last time, Remus wondered why he hadn't made friends with a Ravenclaw.

--------

The grounds were still empty of students by the time Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco exited the forest. The sky was turning a dull gray-blue as high, thin clouds slowly covered the brightening sky. Behind them, floating calmly under the power of Hermione's wand, the unconscious Lucius Malfoy looked perhaps calmer and more harmless than he had in his entire life. Occasionally, Draco would cast a curious glance towards his father, but it seemed more as if it was to make sure the man was still unconscious rather than out of any sort of familial obligation.

All conversation had fallen silent once they left the forest. Harry couldn't help but wonder what they were going to do next. Now that they had Lucius Malfoy, what were they to do with him? Surely the man wouldn't tell them anything out of the goodness of his heart, and Harry was sure that his friends would agree with him on torture being absolutely out of the question. There had to be another way to get him to talk, and Harry was now seriously regretting having not thought through that part of his 'great' plan.

Before they'd even made it halfway across the grounds, Ron suddenly stopped, and exclaimed, "Look, it's Dumbledore!" Harry couldn't interpret the odd tone in his voice, but somehow understood it nonetheless. At the sight of the old wizard striding toward them from the castle, McGonagall in tow, a chill of fear and shame slid down his spine, and he couldn't hide the dismay in his expression. Hermione seemed to voice his thoughts exactly when she said simply, "Oh no…." The closer the Headmaster came, the more clearly Harry could see that his expression was anything but pleased. The twinkle was gone from his eye, and his movements seemed vaguely stiff. McGonagall's cheeks were pale from the effort of keeping her mouth in a thin, taut line, but her anger made itself obvious in the low set of her eyebrows.

With no way to avoid the angry pair, they slowed to a stop, faces downcast as Dumbledore and McGonagall bore down upon them. When they stood face to face, as if an invisible wall had been erected between the students and professors, Dumbledore let out a great sigh, and adjusted his tiny square glasses with one gnarled hand.

"I do not even know how to begin," Dumbledore said slowly, shaking his head as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes. McGonagall looked very much as if her idea of a beginning would be to hang them by their toes from the astronomy tower, but she said nothing. Dumbledore's silent, steady gaze made Harry feel as if he were standing naked in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, struggling to decide with way to run as hundreds of eyes stared at him. He wanted very much to curl into a ball like a small child, and one glance at his friends proved that they most definitely felt similarly.

"I think I can guess why you have done this, Zachary…" Dumbledore said with a pointed look, and Harry flushed uncomfortably, "…but I cannot believe, that after everything you have been through these last few years, that you would choose such a dangerous, foolhardy, and completely irresponsible course of action. Do you even realize what you have done?"

Desperate to defend his actions, Harry squared his shoulders and looked away. "We captured a Death Eater who can tell me where my father is," Harry said, his eyes furrowed with determination.

"No, Harry. You have stunned an adult wizard, one with a great many influences in our world, and not only that, but one who has already disclosed to me the location of your father in exchange for a guarantee on his own safety!" For the first time, Harry was frightened of Dumbledore. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and unwanted adrenaline coursed through his veins as he quivered under the Headmaster's sharp gaze. The normally twinkling eyes were hard as ice, the kindly mouth set in an angry frown. Harry swallowed thickly, eyes widening as he processed all of the wizard's words. Dumbledore seemed to sense his thoughts, and nodded grimly.

"Yes, Zachary. We know where you father is. Remus and Sirius are already on their way to rescue him. If all goes well, they should be returning here within a few hours. And when Severus returns, I believe he will have more than a choice few words to share with you about this. I will leave it up to him to choose your punishment…but as for you, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, and Mr. Weasley…I believe Professor McGonagall will be more than happy to choose a proper consequence." It was hard to tell which of them had gotten the better end of the deal, but Harry couldn't bring himself to really focus on much of anything. His brain seemed torn beyond fear and joy, shame and shock. His father was going to be okay! He was being rescued as they spoke, he wouldn't have to spend even another hour in whatever hell Voldemort had devised…he hadn't lost him….

"Come with me, Mr. Snape. I think it would be best if you were to wait in my office for the time being," Dumbledore said, and with a flick of his wand, took the floating form of Lucius Malfoy from Hermione's control and proceeded to turn towards the castle. McGonagall stiffly motioned for the other three to follow her, but an odd sound stalled them in their tracks. It sounded almost like…thunder, but was a bit higher pitched. "Albus…?" McGonagall questioned softly, her anger drained away in place of confusion.

"Professor, who's that?" Hermione asked suddenly, pointing to a place just along the tree line, near the edge of the lake. A boy stood there, facing the trees. He was clutching his hands together, though he was too far away to be able to see what he was doing. Harry turned to look at Dumbledore, and felt as if the world had slipped from beneath his feet. Dumbledore looked absolutely shocked, his mouth parted slightly and eyes shining with just a hint of fear. "All of you, get inside the castle _now_! Find a room and lock yourselves inside!" Dumbledore practically shouted, his wand unsheathed. Almost immediately an alarm began to ring as if from the air itself, waning and waxing in intensity like a klaxon.

"Professor McGonagall, what--" Hermione tried to ask, but McGonagall cut her off.

"Not now, Miss Granger, do as the Headmaster says! The wards are about to fail!" she cried, ushering them all towards the castle. Not needing any further prompting, they all began to run towards the castle, but before they got far, there was a second thunder-like crash. This one was much louder, and so strong that it shook the world beneath them. Harry staggered, and cast a glance toward the distant figure. Dumbledore had left Lucius immobilized in the grass and was racing toward the boy, but he was too far away to cast any spells. The boy was standing with his hands spread above his head, as if touching an invisible wall. Light was pulsing over his body, curling like tiny bolts of electricity that changed color with every curve and jump. The light was getting brighter, and the ground beneath his feet felt as if it was vibrating. Dread curled deep in Harry's stomach…Dumbledore wasn't going to reach the boy in time….

"_Mr. Snape!"_ McGonagall screamed, her voice high pitched and desperate. Harry snapped out of his thoughts and raced to catch up. He didn't know exactly why it was so important that they get to the castle, but he could almost feel some unnamable danger looming just outside of reach, snapping at his heels. His legs pumped, and he'd almost caught up with McGonagall when a final roar of thunder shook the stones of the castle. He stumbled and fell, ears humming from the sound. The ground beneath his grasping fingers trembled, tiny pebbles jittering about and it seemed as if something massive had shifted out of place far beneath the grass. The trembling stopped almost as suddenly as it had begun, and Harry's eyes were drawn to the sky as he staggered to his feet.

Looking up, he felt as if he were inside a gigantic snow globe. Extending from the tree line over the entire castle to the edge of the distant lake a massive dome of what looked like frosted glass shimmered in the dim morning light. It pulsed dimly, and sparks of electric energy shot across it like bolts of lightening. The bolts grew thicker, and slivers of pure sky shone through the dome, widening steadily. Harry tried desperately to start running again, but the sky suddenly flashed pinkish-white, and the entire dome collapsed. It fell in tiny, shimmering flakes from the sky, dissolving like snowflakes before they touched the ground. Harry heard McGonagall gasp, and then he felt it himself. As if a thick, warm cloak had suddenly been stripped away in the dead of winter, he could feel the absence of the wards like a cold breeze against naked skin. Goosebumps rose on his pale arms, and he blinked suddenly as a sharp pain erupted briefly from his scar. It was gone almost immediately, but a subtle tingling from between his eyes reminded him of something worse.

Eyes widened, Harry dashed to McGonagall's side, pressing his wand into her startled grip. "Mr. Snape, I hardly think –" she began, but Harry shook his head, and the fear in his eyes seemed to startle the professor.

"Professor, please! You must stun me and keep _that_ away from me!" he shouted. McGonagall seemed to deflate slightly, and looked at him almost pityingly.

"I understand that you may wish to restrain yourself from acting foolishly, but this is not the time. We may need your help along with all the other upper years…"

"That's not it!" Harry yelled, face flushed in frustration. "I am a Serpent's Child! With the wards down, I'm no longer immune to Voldemort's control! You must stun me! _Please_!" McGonagall's face lost its color all at once, but her eyes flashed with sudden understanding. Her head whipped to the side, where Ron, Hermione, and Draco were standing dumbstruck.

"Get into the Gryffindor common room and stay there, don't let anyone leave, and don't let anyone besides myself or the Headmaster inside! Go!" she shouted, and the three cast one last pleading look at Harry before dashing the last twenty yards to the castle. Harry had fallen to his knees and was shivering, a palm pressed to the skin between his eyes and the fingers wound back across his scalp. His other hand was drawn across his waist, clenching and unclenching in the material of his robes. The green of his eyes nearly disappeared as pupils dilated, the muscles of his jaw twitching with strain. His eyes squeezed shut, and McGonagall could see the muscles in his throat working, as if he was struggling to speak but couldn't force out the words.

"Zachary!" Dumbledore panted, suddenly dropping beside the boy. Briefly, Harry opened his eyes, catching a blurred image of the Headmaster's concerned face.

"M'sorry…" he managed, the shaking of his body slurring the words. "…Dad…m'sorry." Dumbledore swallowed, and nodded his head.

"I'll tell him for you, I promise," Dumbledore said, and slid his wand into view. Harry threw his head back, unaware of anything but the searing cold burning his blood, and screamed. He fell to his side in the grass, fingers clawing at the soft earth, tears leaking to soak into the damp soil.

Dumbledore raised his wand, and whispered, "_Stupefy_."

----------------End chapter 45-------------------

Note: Sorry if it any bits seemed odd or overly-dramatic. I haven't really written anything in a while and have to back into practice!

Next Chapter: Sirius and Remus to the rescue! And just a bit of everything else, really.


	46. Did He Who Made the Lamb Make Thee?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. are property of J. K. Rowling. I make no claim on them or their world, nor do I gain anything material by the writing of this fanfiction. I do, however, get enjoyment from writing it, and I don't think you can sue for that. ; )

**A Father's Sin**

_by_ Severitus

_And when the stars threw down their spears_

_And shattered heaven with their tears_

_Did he smile his work to see?_

From Tyger Tyger, by William Blake

**Chapter 46**—_Did he who made the lamb make thee?_

It really wasn't like either Sirius or Remus had expected. The old, crumbling ruins of a watch tower that the tracking spell brought them to seemed almost entirely defenseless. Whatever wards had been set around the place had been avoided by Apparating in the brown-haired Death Eater's wake. There were no exterior guards, no dangerous beasts, and no trace of recent life of any kind. It was certainly creepy, but both Sirius and Remus doubted He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would consider 'certainly creepy' an adequate defense. They appeared on a low, rocky slope before the ruined tower, shoes crunching on dry, coarse grass. The wind was strong and bitterly cold, and the few scattered shrubs grew close to the ground as if huddling for warmth. The sky was a depressing gray, and the sharp, salty scent of the nearby sea stung their noses.

"Well? Which way should we go in?" Remus asked impatiently, staring at Sirius as if daring him to palm off the decision.

"Well I don't know about you, but I only see _one_ door," Sirius replied sourly.

Remus shook his head and lightly pushed the dark haired man forward, focus not once drifting from the lichen-covered stone doorway before them.

"I still think this is a bit brazen of us, to walk right in like this. It's a bad sign that we've gotten this far." Remus casually sniffed at the air before following Sirius through the doorway. There was the faint scent of several people somewhere in the depths of the ruins. "Where are all the Death Eaters? The Serpent's Children? According to Severus' last report, You-Know-Who's been keeping himself surrounded by both." Remus turned to face Sirius as they stood inside the doorway, and they seemed to come to the same conclusion. Somewhere, probably someplace big, the Death Eaters and Serpent's Children were attacking.

"We must hurry, then," Sirius said, eyes suddenly hard, and they slipped fully into the dark interior. The Death Eater had disappeared from sight in the blackness, his footsteps only fading echoes that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Both men paused for a moment, breathing quietly as their eyes adjusted to the absence of light. The dim view that slowly appeared didn't help their situation much. They had stepped into a broad entryway, with one doorway directly ahead and one on each side wall. There was no obvious indication of which doorway they should take. No obvious trail of footprints, nor blinking arrows reading "Dungeons: This Way!"

"Hear anything?" Sirius whispered, not taking his eyes off the doorways.

Remus cocked his head, eyes closed as he concentrated. After a moment, his lips quirked and his eyes opened.

"Yes…very faint, but it's coming from the left door." No sooner had Remus finished speaking than Sirius was striding toward the left door, wand unsheathed and sleeves rolled up.

"Sirius! For Merlin's sake, man, we're infiltrating, not storming the bloody castle!" Remus hissed, snagging the back of Sirius' robes and nervously eyeing the other doorways.

"Look…we've established that most of the Death Eaters and the Serpents Children are elsewhere, right? So why not take advantage and cause a little mayhem? You know…a few blasting curses here, a few there…." Sirius was gripping his wand and grinning madly, eyes glimmering in the dark. Remus sighed and shook his head.

"I don't know if you're stupid or just insane, Sirius…but all right. Even I can't argue with causing a little trouble for the Death Eaters. But please don't blow up anything until we figure out where Severus is! We wouldn't want to blow him up, too," Remus said sternly.

Sirius' expression grew thoughtful for a moment, as if considering the idea.

"Think of Harry, Sirius," Remus growled, and Sirius sighed dramatically.

"Oh, fine. Spoil my fun why don't you."

Remus didn't bother to reply, but gave Sirius a firm shove toward the doorway.

------------------------------------

Severus' eyes snapped open as the walls around him shook, the last echoes of a distant explosion ringing in his ears. Stone dust fell from the low ceiling. Blinking against the dryness in his eyes, Severus struggled to raise his head from the floor, ears straining for any hint of what was going on. Lestrange had left a few hours prior on some important business with the promise of returning to 'play' that evening. The other guards had stayed on, however… now that his eyes had cleared, Severus could detect no trace of the two lumbering shadows outside his door.

His heart almost stalled in his chest. Were they gone? Had they left to investigate the explosion, or had Lestrange returned to try a new kind of torture? Gritting his teeth, Severus dragged himself to the wall and braced himself against it before rising unsteadily to his feet. Suddenly, a second and third explosion, closer this time, echoed down the hallways. When there were no other sounds from outside the door, Severus hobbled to its window and peered cautiously to either side. The hallway was empty. Restraining a smirk and saving his excitement for later, Severus gingerly slipped off his outer jacket, wincing as the swollen muscles of his left shoulder protested the awkward movement. Flipping the garment upside-down, he dug his teeth into the hem and tore the thread. Squeezing the material between his fingers, he carefully slid three tiny vials from the hem and into the palm of his hand. Each vial was no larger than a bean and contained several drops each of a super-concentrated potions he had painstakingly prepared. The first vial, a pale blue, he quickly uncapped and drank the contents. Immediately a soothing numbness spread from his throat to all his limbs. Free of the debilitating pain, Severus stood straighter and uncorked the second vial, and carefully dripped the vibrant yellow contents on the exposed hinges of the door. The potion hissed and quickly devoured the metal, leaving only the bolts in the wall as evidence. Pocketing the third vial for the moment, Severus put his hands against the door and waited patiently. Soon enough, another explosion, from nearer yet, echoed down the hallway. The instant the sound reached his ears, Severus threw all his weight at the door. The sound of the door slamming to the ground blended seamlessly with the racket outside, and Severus allowed himself a pleased smile. Now, all he had to do was slip silently out of the building.

-------------------------

"I must admit, Sirius, that was strangely satisfying," Remus admitted as they sprinted quickly toward the dungeons. Far behind them, small tongues of flame were still crackling in piles of rubble. Both were cloaked in slightly singed Death Eater robes, the hoods thrown back while they ran.

"I've told you before, Moony, violence can be therapeutic. And we have completely destroyed Voldemort's throne room, library, war room, bathroom—"

"You and toilets, Padfoot…even in Hogwarts you always wanted to prank someone by blowing up a loo…."

"Hey, I'll have you know there was a perfectly valid reason for demolishing You-Know-Who's toilet. Everybody knows bathrooms are the sturdiest rooms in any building, after all. He could have hidden something important in there!"

"Yes, the oh-so-deadly bar of Irish Spring. We must report our findings to Dumbledore at once."

"Spoilsport. Seriously though, where did Fawkes' note say the dungeons were?"

"Third level down. Severus is supposed to be in cell fifteen, about halfway down the cell block. There should be two guards, if they didn't run off during the explosions."

As they approached a junction, a sudden, sharp sound like a boot on rough stone came from just around the corner. Both men slid to a stop.

"Someone's coming….quick, look evil!" Sirius hissed, quickly pulling up his hood. Remus held his wand up his sleeve, ready to use at a second's notice. However, the tall, calm figure who stepped around the corner shocked him so badly that he nearly dropped it.

"Honestly, if you two are the best the Headmaster had to offer, we might as well surrender now. I could hear you gabbing all the way down the hall," the figure growled, looking strangely amused despite the blood and bruises coating his pale skin.

"Severus! How--" Remus began, but Severus silenced him with a pointed glare.

"Your _explosions_ gave me the chance I needed, never mind the details. We need to get back to the castle. Now." There was something in Severus' voice that made the two other men turn to look at each other, their faces wearing identical expressions of worry.

"All right then…this way." Sirius turned and headed back down the hallway, setting a quick, determined pace.

"What's wrong?" Remus asked as they rushed toward a nearby stairwell.

Severus' expression was pained for more than one reason when he turned to reply.

"The Dark Lord only attacked Beauxbatons as a distraction. He's summoning the Serpent's Children and attacking Hogwarts as we speak," Severus said, and had to look away because of the raw worry shining in his eyes. "If something isn't done, Harry won't stand a chance. The summoning will be too strong to resist, even through the wards."

"What can we do? Is there some way to stop it?"

"Short of killing Voldemort? No. And if Hogwarts is no longer safe, there's no place left in Europe that can block the summoning." Severus' expression was resolute, and his eyes shone with a sudden fire. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try,"

-------------------------------------------------

"It won't hold long, Minerva, we must get him inside the castle," Dumbledore said. "The Serpent's Children and the Death Eaters are here." He pointed one long finger toward the distant line of trees, and McGonagall's eyes widened at the sight. Rows of children, pale and blank-faced, were emerging from the trees. They were eerily still compared to the Death Eaters who surged around them. And behind them, taller and paler than any, was a figure whose face could never be forgotten. Lord Voldemort stood just inside the line of trees, his darkly smiling face looking directly at them. For a moment, McGonagall wondered if he could hear their every word.

Unconsciously, she found her gaze drawn back to the stiff, still form of Zachary Snape. His vivid green eyes were closed, but his face had been frozen in an expression of desperate fear. She felt tears prickle in her eyes for the boy she had known for such a short time.

A shout from near the castle snapped her back to the present. Several of the professors had emerged from the castle doors with Madam Hooch in the lead. She had her wand gripped in a fist and looked ready to plunge into battle. After her, Professors Sinistra, Flitwick, and Sprout were taking in the scene with wide eyes.

"Minerva, if you would alert the others?" Dumbledore said calmly. His wand was halfway raised in the air, and a tiny, silvery phoenix flew from the tip and up into the sky, not doubt to alert the Ministry of the attack. McGonagall quickly lifted her own wand and did the same, though her Patronus was a silvery cat rather than a phoenix. It would head directly to the Weasley's, so that Arthur could relay to message to all those loyal to Dumbledore.

The Headmaster was hurriedly levitating Zachary toward the castle doors when what could only be described as a _pulse_ rent the air. It didn't truly have a sound, though it felt very much like a nearby thunder strike, felt more inside the head than in the ear. Looking up, she saw that Voldemort was speaking, though he was too far away to tell what was being said. One of the Serpent's children was kneeling before him, and the Dark Wizard was chanting as his wand pressed to the child's skull. The pulse came again, this time so powerful that McGonagall could swear her bones rattled. A gasp tore her attention away, and she turned to see something even more horrifying.

Zachary was awake, but it didn't take long to realize that it wasn't Zachary any longer. The once cat-green eyes were now solidly white, devoid of iris and pupil. As if the Stupefy spell was nothing but a minor hindrance, Zachary slowly twisted so that his feet touched the ground, and rose like a doll pulled by a puppeteer's strings. He merely stood there afterward, looking strangely dead despite his upright posture. His spine was straight and posture stiff, but he still seemed as if it was gravity alone which kept him standing. Dumbledore looked both surprised and deeply pained, as if his very last hope for the boy had been shattered. McGonagall felt similarly, she was glad that at least Severus didn't have to see his son like this.

Voldemort's army surged closer, seemingly in no hurry to engage an enemy they obviously overwhelmed at the moment. The other professors had arrived from the castle, staring pityingly at Zachary yet giving him a wide berth all the same.

Suddenly, a low, mirthful laughter echoed across the silent grounds. "How can you expect to defend a school, Dumbledore, when you can't protect a single child?" Voldemort's high, taunting voice carried perfectly in the still air, and he was close enough that it was obvious his eyes were fixed on Zachary.

"There is still hope for him, Tom. There is always hope."

"As you believe so deeply in hope, perhaps it shall survive even if I claim my toy?" Dumbledore's eyes widened even as Voldemort raised one hand in the air. It was a deceptively simple gesture--the barest flick of his fingers in a classic 'come hither' motion-- but its effect was dramatic. As if he was, in fact, quite literally a puppet, Zachary's form went limp and rose several feet from the ground. His head lolled loosely against his chest, and his limbs merely dangled as Voldemort twitched his fingers again, and brought the child zooming through the air toward himself so quickly that no one had even thought to stop him.

Zachary settled to the ground again among the Serpent's Children, now a pale, blank face among many. His body became stiff and corpse-like again the instant his feet touched ground.

"One more soldier for my army," Voldemort said cruelly. "You may care for this child, Dumbledore, but to me he is merely another soldier to die for me. A nameless, meaningless face among the ranks. Now that everyone is where they rightfully belong, I have one very important question for you. If you give me the answer I want, I promise you there will be very few casualties today. However, if you do not, I promise to let you live long enough to see every last one of your precious students slaughtered indiscriminately." Voldemort's eyes slowly narrowed, his lips curled back nastily from his teeth. "Now, where is my book?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more specific, Tom. After all, Hogwarts does boast one of Europe's largest magical libraries," Dumbledore responded, stroking his beard in a mockery of contemplation.

"I know it is here, Dumbledore. Do no insult me by claiming otherwise. Now, where is it?" Voldemort raised his wand slightly, as if in example of the consequences should the Headmaster fail to comply. Dumbledore smiled sagely, and as if they had been waiting for that very moment, the staccato sound of dozens of witches and wizards Apparating onto the grounds echoed through the clear air. Aurors, Dumbledore's allies, and witches and wizards who had heard the news gathered behind Dumbledore and the professors, faces set and wands at the ready.

Voldemort frowned, drawing himself up to his full height and pointedly ignoring the new arrivals. "Very well," he said and snarled a command to the wizards surrounding him. As one, the black sea of Death Eaters and the expressionless Serpent's Children surged forward, wands flickering with curses as they drew within attacking distance. Dumbledore's own makeshift army needed no instructions but responded in kind, flowing to meet the oncoming horde like a multicolored wind.

--------------------------------------------

Chaos was the scene that met Severus, Remus, and Sirius on their arrival. They all felt the lack of the wards the instant they arrived outside the gates…it was like stepping into a cold bath when you expected a warm one. Severus' hand went instantly to his hip, only to fall away upon the remembering that his wand was long gone. They had arrived near the gates, and spread before them was a field scattered with robed figures and spells shooting like flares in all directions. The black-robed figures far outnumbered the others, but Dumbledore's allies seemed to be holding their own for the moment. However, the realization that it was not only Death Eaters, but Serpent's Children who were spread on the field caused his wildly beating heart to nearly freeze. Before Remus and Sirius could stop him, Severus was racing across the field as fast as his injuries would allow. Stumbling from the weakening of the numbing potion, he never once changed in his course toward Dumbledore.

The old wizard fought just back from where the two forces had met: close enough to assist in the fight, yet far enough away from the thickest fighting to shout orders and maintain a semblance of order. Severus weaved around clashing pairs, paying no mind to the spells being fired over his head and into the distant midst of the Death Eaters. When he reached the aging wizard, Dumbledore had just finished transfiguring a Death Eater into a footstool.

"Headmaster!" Severus gasped, clutching at his ribs as they throbbed in renewed pain. Dumbledore turned in surprise before casting a temporary shield in front of the two of them.

"Severus! It is a relief to see you alive and well. Sirius and Remus succeeded, I take it?" he said, attempting to smile reassuringly. However, Severus could see in his eyes that something had happened to deeply wound the Headmaster. His eyes held a sadness that Severus could recall seeing only when someone the old man cared for had died.

"Headmaster…where is my son?" Severus asked. At any other time he would have been shocked and embarrassed by how desperate and pleading his voice sounded. Now, though, all he cared about was Harry. Every inch of him screamed for the Headmaster to say he was safe inside the castle, or in an enchanted sleep…as long as he was safe. Dumbledore's eyes told him otherwise. At his question, the old man's face grew grave and pained nearly beyond recognition. He lifted his free hand and set it gently on Severus' shoulder, before directing his wand toward a swarm of Serpent's Children behind the bulk of the Death Eaters. Severus knew his heart stopped for a moment, his entire body still and silent as his eyes fell on a familiar black-haired boy nestled in the heart of the group.

Dimly, Severus was aware of Sirius and Remus arriving, their labored breathing a distant sound in a world that had suddenly become very dim and narrow. His head swirled with momentary dizziness, and if it hadn't been for Lupin, his suddenly weak knees would have sent him crashing to the ground. Severus couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of his son. Despite the distance between them, he could clearly see that Harry's eyes were solid white, and his face was entirely devoid of expression or emotion.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Dumbledore said, but Severus didn't hear him.

"He can't have him," Severus said suddenly, and twisted violently from Lupin's grip. He turned to run toward the boy, his limp violently obvious now. Before he'd gone past Dumbledore's shield both his arms were yanked firmly back, and he turned to snap at whoever dared try to keep him from his child. Sirius and Remus had each grabbed one arm, and were watching him desperately.

"Snape, stop it! Do you want to get yourself killed or do you want to rescue the kid?" Sirius growled, yanking on his arm for emphasis.

"I will not let Voldemort have him! Let me go, Black!"

"For Merlin's sake, Snape, snap out of it! You don't have a wand, you're injured, and right now he'll attack you the first chance he gets! Don't you understand? You're the enemy to him! Harry's not home right now!"

"Then what do you suggest? We wait for one of our own to kill him? Let Voldemort string him about like a toy until he decides to kill him himself, or make him kill me?"

"No. I want you to stand there for a minute and take whatever damn healing potion I know you've got stashed on you somewhere while we figure out a plan," Sirius said, releasing his grip on the other man. Snape rubbed his wrists petulantly but made no move to run.

"Albus" Remus interrupted, "How exactly is he controlling the Serpent's Children? How do they know who is an enemy and who isn't?"

"Well," Dumbledore began, "From what I remember the commands must be very specific. Because they have no minds or personalities of their own, they cannot adapt or make judgments. They have most likely been told to attack all wizards not wearing Death Eater robes or something very similar."

"So, they wouldn't attack, say…a dog?" Sirius said, grinning in a very self-satisfied way.

Beside him, Severus blinked, the vial of healing potion he'd kept from his earlier escape paused at his lips. He downed it quickly and grimaced at the taste, and sighed in relief as his aches and pains slowly dissolved.

"We'd need more than one Animagus--" Lupin began, only to stop as Snape abruptly grabbed Sirius by the collar and stared him in the eye.

"Distract them and watch my back, Black. If you screw up now, I swear I will do much worse than devour your soul," Severus hissed and then released him.

Sirius didn't even have time to ask before Severus swiftly transformed. The huge, glossy black lion he had become wasted no time on the shocked expressions behind him, but charged top-speed through the battlefield, his body weaving easily between the battling wizards.

Sirius had to push himself to his limits to keep up, having transformed in barely enough time to see where the lion had disappeared to. His paws kicked up dust and grass with every desperate step, and he was panting by the time he caught sight of the lion again. Though a few risked curious glances as the unusual beast roaming among them, none attacked, and Sirius wasn't spared a thought. After all, it wasn't unusual to see a Grim on a battlefield. There were plenty dying on both sides.

Severus the lion had slipped beyond the Death Eaters as if they were of no more concern than reeds on a grassy hill. He continued on between several rows of Serpent's Children, until he came to the boy who'd so recently change his world. Forcing his thoughts away from the child's blank eyes, he rose briefly on his hind legs and snapped his teeth firmly into the front of the boy's robes, careful to avoid the vulnerable skin beneath. His solid weight easily carried them both toward the ground, and he instantly began charging back the way he had come. Something heavy fell from Harry's cloak to the ground, but Severus didn't stop to look. Harry's feet and legs dragged on the ground, but any injuries the boy incurred that way could easily be fixed later. What was important was getting him away from Voldemort.

Severus was paying very little mind to his immediate surroundings, instead concentrating on the clearest path back to Dumbledore. That was until, out of nowhere, a curse sailed over his mane, singeing his fur, and barely missing his scalp. He grimaced at the heat and spared a quick glance to his left to locate the source. A loud howl rent the air from startlingly close. Severus spared enough of a look to see a giant black dog plowing jaws-first into a startled Bellatrix Lestrange. Faintly, he thought he heard her scream, but he couldn't be sure. One voice, however, rang out over the din. A voice that had been taunting him the last time he heard it, the cold voice gloating over the fact that Zachary Snape was a Serpent's Child.

"Change the orders Vanus, you fool! Stop the beast!" Lord Voldemort's voice rang. Severus forced himself to pick up speed, his powerful jaws beginning to ache. But Voldemort had noticed their presence too late, and Severus was sailing beyond Dumbledore to the rear of all the light wizards. He was going to quite literally put an entire army between Voldemort and Harry.

Sagging to the ground beyond the last of the light wizards, Severus let Harry slide to the ground and transformed back. Not knowing how distance would effect Voldemort's control, he knelt by the boy's side and quickly slipped the wand from his limp hand and hid it inside his coat. Harry merely lay sprawled on the ground, eyes hauntingly blank and body limp. He looked like a corpse. Severus didn't know what he'd expected, if he thought Harry would blink and awaken the instant he was rescued, or at least that he would appear to be sleeping. But neither was the case, and Severus couldn't help but feel that he'd failed somehow. He wouldn't, couldn't believe that Harry's mind was gone forever, that he would forever be a lifeless shell, even if Voldemort were killed. Those dangerous thoughts, the sight of Harry's still empty eyes, broke the last vestige of hope that Severus had been desperately clinging to.

Desperately, as if wishing for some miracle, Severus lifted the limp body of his son and clutched it to his chest. Tears rolled unrepentant down his cheeks.

"Harry…I'm so sorry…." he whispered, turning his face into the boy's dark hair.

He couldn't help but think if only he'd been there when the call came that he could have done something. Surely he would have thought of something to protect his son, if only he'd been there! He rocked the boy gently, one hand tangled in the child's messy locks and the other behind his shoulders. The sounds of battle seemed from a different world entirely. The war didn't matter now that his reason to continue fighting was gone. Tears rolled faster down his cheeks, and he ignored them, whispering almost crazily to the child in his arms. He said his name over and over, begging him to come back though his heart told him it was impossible. He told Harry that he loved him and was proud of him, and that he wished, desperately, that he could have raised him.

"Severus…" he didn't flinch at the voice, not bothering to look up.

"Go away, Black. I appreciate your help, but please leave me alone." His voice was pitifully defeated, and tainted by the thickness in his throat. Abruptly, he froze. He thought he'd felt…

"Harry…?" His voice came out barely a whisper, as if he anticipated that he was imagining things. But then it came again--the body in his arms tensed slightly, and the head drew back unsteadily.

"Da…d?" the voice was shaky and hoarse, but it was there all the same. Cloudy green eyes blinked up at him in confusion, before squinting in pain.

"Harry!" Severus hugged the child even more tightly than before, then pulling back and brushing the hair from the boy's eyes. Suddenly, Remus was kneeling beside them, though Severus couldn't bring himself to be annoyed at the intrusion.

"Severus, we have to do something _now_. There's no telling how long it will be before he falls back under their control!"

"Not…long…" Harry rasped, and Severus realized why Harry had seemed to be in pain. He was resisting, but his control seemed precarious at best.

"Listen, I've spoken to Dumbledore and we have an idea," Lupin said. Severus looked to him in shock, almost unwilling to believe that there might be an opportunity to save Harry after all. Lupin turned to the trembling child and leaned close, their eyes locked.

"Harry, are you strong enough to transform?" he asked slowly, as if to be sure the boy understood. Harry blinked, his eyebrows knotting in confusion. Then, deliberately, he nodded.

"Transform?" Severus asked, looking to Harry in confusion.

"Let's just say he's unwittingly following in your footsteps," Lupin said, smiling faintly. "Now, Harry…go ahead," Lupin urged, and Harry swallowed thickly.

He closed his eyes, squinting as if in effort. There was a very faint 'pop,' and Severus found himself facing a lean black wolf with surprised green eyes. The wolf stood up straight, favoring a front leg, and his ears flicked to the sides. It almost seemed as if he was considering something.

"Harry?" Severus said. Suddenly, the wolf's ears popped forward again and his jaws opening in a wide, doggish grin.

"Is it gone?" Lupin asked, and the wolf bobbed his head excitedly.

Severus grinned helplessly, watching the wolf with both awe and insurmountable relief. Harry was okay…his son was going to be okay.

"Mind explaining what just happened?" Sirius asked impatiently, though he, too, was grinning.

"Well, Dumbledore had theorized that the Serpent's Call, or the Summons, worked on the basis of brainwaves in order to affect the Children so absolutely. The way you were able to slip past the Serpent's Children without being attacked, and Sirius' own method of escaping Azkaban gave me the idea. After all, if he's in wolf form, Harry's brainwaves aren't human. Why should the Call affect him when it's geared toward _human_ children?" Lupin smiled and patted Harry briefly on the head, to which the wolf grinned happily.

Suddenly, there were a chorus of angered shouts that stood out from the cacophony of battle. Turning to look toward the distant front lines, they saw a shocking sight. Lucius Malfoy had awoken and escaped, having apparently been forgotten in the heat of battle. His lithe form now limped quickly between the two armies, before stopping to snatch something from the ground in a small space free of battling or fallen wizards. Unusually, he held the item aloft, as if to declare a personal victory.

"What is it?" Sirius hissed, squinting to see the squarish object in the blonde wizard's hand.

"It's a book. Just an old book…" Remus muttered.

"A book? Wait. Harry, did you have the book in your cloak? The one Dumbledore lent you?" Severus asked, and the wolf bobbed his head, ears cocked in confusion.

"Damn." Severus cursed, face suddenly pale. "That's what Voldemort is here for. It's his book, the one that will allow him to transform the Serpent's Children into the unstoppable force they were designed to be."

"What do you mean, designed to be? And why would Harry have had such a powerful book with him?" Sirius asked, looking between the scene on the battlefield and Severus.

"_Dumbledore_ transfigured the book into a storybook and hid it in the last place he thought the Dark Lord would check, and indeed, it's been hidden under his nose for several hours," Severus began, his expression grave. "As they are, the Serpent's Children are incomplete. That book contains the spell he needs to finish the process he began before they were born. In other words, he's about to get exactly what he came for."

---End 46---

Next Chapter: the final battle…what else? Only the Epilogue after that, folks. Whew!


	47. Final Acts

Disclaimer:: Property of J.K Rowling. Any copyright infringement is unintentional. Any places or things not recognized as property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers, is intellectual property of me. Thanks. : )

Notes: I have no excuse. I bow in shame. :(

**A Father's Sin**

_by_ Severitus

**Chapter 47**—_Final Acts_

The battlefield had grown strangely silent at Malfoy's unusual actions, and most eyes were fixed on his place between to the armies. Voldemort's glee seemed to bleed through the air, raising the hair on the back of Severus' neck. The Dark Lord moved from the back of the army, where he had been waiting silently, allowing events to take their course until his turn to strike the finishing blow arrived. Lucius Malfoy stood silently, expression strangely blank as he held the book aloft.

"Well Dumbledore, it seems you have failed. The book is mine!" Voldemort laughed, his smile a terrifying distortion of his lips.

"Oh? I would not count my battles won before they are finished, Tom," Dumbledore replied, sounding strangely amused despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Ah, but victory is inevitable. You know that once I have the book and read a few simple words, no magic in the world will stand in the way of my Serpent's Children."

"Perhaps. But that does not mean we will not try," Dumbledore said.

Voldemort seethed, and directed his attention abruptly to Lucius.

"Lucius! Bring it to me!" he commanded.

The blonde wizard turned toward him, his face still oddly disinterested. The hand holding the book lowered slightly, as if to bring it to his side. He held it balanced on his palm at waist height. Suddenly, he stared at it intensely. Before anyone knew what was happening, the book burst into bright blue flames that devoured the entire tome as if it were rice paper. Voldemort's scream of rage echoed across the field as Lucius shook the smoldering ashes from his hand, allowing them to scatter on the wind. Not even a 'Reparo' spell had the faintest hope of fixing it, now.

"Malfoy!" Voldemort screamed, looking as if he'd forgotten about his wand and was preparing to tear the man to pieces with his own hands.

Lucius, however, only smirked and turned away, before bowing very deliberately toward Dumbledore. And then, he Apparated away with a mockingly loud 'pop.'

Silence remained on the battlefield for only a moment. Witches and wizards on both sides were confused by what had happened and shifted uneasily. But then Voldemort's rage swelled to a nearly palpable force, and he screamed, clearly crazed, at his followers.

"KILL THEM ALL! Every last one!"

Before his voice had echoed away the battle had begun again, the curses thrown with renewed vigor. Already the battlefield was speckled with the fallen, both dead and wounded, though neither army seemed to have outmatched the other.

"Well, who wouldda thought. Malfoy, a good guy," Sirius muttered.

"Hmm. More likely he expects Dumbledore to win, and wants to be on the winning side," Remus mused.

Severus ignored their banter, his eyes instead fixed on the black wolf at his side.

Remus stood surveying the battle, eyes sharp, and wand in hand should any enemy make it that far back. His eyes were narrowed, flicking back and forth over the field.

"Sirius, Severus…the battle doesn't seem to be going very well," he said quietly, as if reluctant to share the unhappy news.

The scene wasn't a pleasant one. Voldemort's anger over the loss of book and loyal servant seemed to have translated to the Death Eater's increased ferocity. The Death Eaters were very clearly pushing the advantage now, the Serpent's Children mowing through the ranks with disturbing ease. Most spells that hit them seemed to have no effect. Only petrifying spells and the killing curse seemed to work. The problem was, though, that most of Hogwarts' defenders were reluctant to use the killing curse on children, and the petrifying spells only worked for a few minutes at most. Voldemort was stalking behind the lines, apparently raving with anger, and shouting furious insults and orders at his army.

Severus finally looked away from checking his son-turned-wolf for injuries and took in the state of affairs. He quickly recognized the Serpent's Children as the problem. They were Voldemort's primary advantage because they could not feel pain, fear, or weakness, and because the light wizards were reluctant to attack them. What they needed was something to remove them from the equation.

"Remus, you said the Serpent's Children only follow specific orders, correct?" he asked.

The werewolf nodded uncertainly.

"So, what do you imagine their orders are right now?" Severus asked.

"Well, they would probably still be what Dumbledore said, possibly to attack anyone not in Death Eater robes, or…oh!" Remus said, catching on to the Potions Master's line of thinking.

"If ALL our robes were charmed to resemble Death Eater robes, we would have the advantage until they could give them new orders," Severus said, smirking.

"It would have to be all at once, though. I don't know a spell that could pull that off. Do you?" Remus asked.

"No, but I'm confident that Dumbledore does. Black?" Severus asked, looking to the darkly grinning man behind Remus.

"I'm on it," he said. He promptly transformed and took off into the fray.

-------------

Not far from where Snape sat with Zachary, Hermione rose from her place hidden among the grasses, her feline form flowing quietly and quickly over the ground. At first, she had merely spied on the group to find out how Harry was doing and to relay the information back to Ron and Draco. However, when they had begun talking about the Serpent's Children, an idea had slipped into her head. She knew it was probably just as crazy, if not more so, than Zachary's plan to kidnap Lucius Malfoy had been, but she wasn't about to stand by and watch the battle rage on if there was something she could do to stop it.

Ron and Draco were waiting by the castle walls, crouched just out of sight of most of the professors. Hermione swiftly shifted form as she approached, smiling at their anxious faces.

"Is he okay?" Ron asked hurriedly, nearly bouncing on his heels.

Draco was biting his lip, looking just as anxious to find out.

"Relax, Zach's fine. His Animagus form is apparently immune to the summoning. So as long as he stays a wolf, his mind is safe," Hermione assured them.

"Good. But really, who's _not_ an Animagus in our year?" Draco muttered, and shook his head.

Ron was grinning ear to ear.

"Listen, while I was down there, I heard some more about the Serpent's Children. I have an idea that should really help to turn the battle in our favor, but I would need both of your help."

"This won't require any martyrs, will it? Because while I'm all in favor of us winning, I hadn't exactly planned on 'dying for the cause,'" Draco said, shivering dramatically.

"It'll be risky, but mostly just for me and Ron." Hermione looked thoughtfully at Draco, her eyes narrowing. "Do you perhaps…know how to cast the Imperius?" she asked, a slow smirk creeping across her face.

Draco smiled smugly.

"Oh, on the average wizard. What do you have in mind?"

--------

Draco hurried down the slope, weaving among the wounded and those tending them. Weasley and Granger were already well on their way to completing their part of the plan. They only had to give Draco enough time to do his part. He hoped that Zachary could do what they needed him to. After all, Zach had been injured and weakened. Would he be strong enough?

Seeing the black wolf and his Head of House kneeling in the grass, Draco slid to a stop. Snape whirled around with a startled look on his face, but something in Draco's expression kept him from yelling immediately.

"Mr. Malfoy?" he asked.

The wolf, Zach, turned to look at him with a happy grin on his face.

"Professor…Granger and Weasley…" Draco panted, only partially faking his nervousness.

"What is it?" Snape insisted. Zach whined softly, ears perked straight up.

"They're missing. We wanted to find out how Zach was doing, and we got separated. We were supposed to meet back at the main doors, but they haven't shown up. I think they must have been captured," Draco said, doing his best wide-eyed, shocked expression.

Professor Snape immediately stood and turned, eyes scanning the battlefield. "When did you last see them?"

"About twenty minutes ago, I think."

"Draco, stay here with Zach for a minute. I'll be right back," Snape commanded, and Draco nodded solemnly. As soon as Snape was out of hearing distance, Draco threw his arm around Zach's furry neck and began speaking quietly.

"Zachary, listen closely, all right? Weasley and Granger are fine. We have a plan to turn this battle around, and they've already set it in motion. In a few minutes, the Dark Lord is going to be very, very angry. And when he is, we need your help. As soon as he starts throwing a fit, you need to switch back to human form and take control, got it? You need to _take control_." Draco had spoken in a rush and sat back and fell silent when Snape returned from his errand a moment later.

Zachary stared at Draco strangely, but nodded slowly. Draco smiled thinly and gave a subtle wink. His part was finished.

Hermione was whispering quietly to herself from where she sat, bound by magical rope, just outside the line of trees. Ron was sitting next to her, glaring sullenly. One of his feet was tapping impatiently against the ground, though his eyes were alert to their surroundings. So far, the plan was going smoothly. With Draco's help, they had been captured by a Death Eater and brought behind enemy lines. Draco's Imperius Curse had made sure that the Death Eater bound them instead of stunning them, and that they were left near the Serpent's Children. All of the Death Eaters were too preoccupied with the battle to pay much attention to a pair of teenagers bound and helpless. Hermione was sure that if Voldemort discovered them sitting right in his lap, things would get a lot more dangerous, but if things continued to go smoothly, they'd be gone before it ever got to that point.

Silently, Hermione finished her whispered counting and turned to Ron. "Did you find him?" Hermione asked softly.

Ron nodded.

"He's hanging back like You-know-Who. He's the one with the slicked-back brown hair, just to the left and behind the Serpent's Children."

Hermione nodded, fixing the boy in question in her line of sight.

"Okay. Are you ready?" she said, steeling herself for what they were about to do.

Ron nodded, looking much more prepared for the battle ahead than she was. "Let's go."

Almost in sync, the two transformed into their animal counterparts. The conjured ropes slid easily from their smaller forms, and they began slinking through the tall grass, eyes fixed on the brown-haired boy. They didn't stop until they were no more than an arm's length away from the boy's heels.

Hermione quivered with nervousness as she crouched in the grass, body almost completely flat to the ground. Ron stopped next to her, his nose twitching in anticipation. The brown-haired boy towered above them, hands on his hips, surveying the battlefield like a kingdom. Harry had been apt in his description: the boy really did look like a Malfoy, save for the hair.

Shaking away her stray thoughts, Hermione tensed her muscles, letting out a very quiet growl in signal. Not an instant later, she and Ron sprung through the air. Ron's aim was true, his jaws clamped firmly on the wrist of the boy's wand-arm, and Hermione would have winced at the sound of cracking bones if she hadn't been busy sinking her claws into the boy's shoulders. Her better half protested against purposely harming a complete stranger, no matter how evil, but she forced herself to think of all the people who had already died because of him. The boy flailed wildly, screaming obscenities, and obviously more concerned with shaking them off than with thinking up a coherent plan of action.

Her powerful hind legs braced on the boy's back, Hermione quickly ripped her wickedly sharp claws across the boy's shoulders. The black cloak shredded easily, and her job went much quicker than expected. With a loud snarl, Hermione leapt from the boy's back, taking the majority of his black cloak with her. Ron followed not even half a second later, a thin wand clamped in his narrow muzzle. They were inside the tree line in and instant, taking refuge in the gnarled roots of a thick old tree. Peering cautiously around the tree, Hermione watched to see the fruits of their labor.

The boy stood furiously, clutching a savage gash Hermione had left across one shoulder. A dark serpent tattoo marred one of the boy's cheeks, in stark contrast to his pale skin. He turned to bark orders to the rest of the Serpent's Children, but his yelling had drawn their attention. For a moment, he stood with eyes widened in horror as no less than twelve wands were aimed at him. His mouth began to move, but it wasn't quick enough. Jets of sickly green light flashed, and Hermione closed her eyes, huddling back in the tree roots. Professor Lupin had been right after all. Without his cloak, the Serpent's Children had seen even their leader as an enemy.

Something soft nudged her side, and Hermione looked up to see Ron's worried gaze watching her, discernible even in his fox form. He made a quiet sound, and motioned off toward the deeper trees. He was right. They needed to leave before Voldemort realized what had happened and all hell broke loose.

--------

"Now, Zach!" Draco suddenly yelled, and Harry yelped, stumbling back from the boy who had been standing quietly at his side.

He had no idea what Ron and Hermione had been hoping to accomplish. And he had no idea how to do what they'd asked him too; although, that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

With a soft 'pop' he returned to human form, immediately aware of the cold seeping from the tattoo on his forehead. He fought the instinct to fight against it, dimly aware of his father's shocked face in front of him. Instead, he closed his eyes and focused on the cold, mentally chasing the feeling to see where it would lead. In a way it was very similar to his scar's link to Voldemort, as if something massive and powerful were pressing in on him, and sooner or later he'd have no choice but to push beyond it or be engulfed entirely. For a moment Harry felt as if he were fainting, as if his legs were giving way and all the blood had deserted his head. Abruptly, the feeling was gone, replaced by silence. He opened his eyes, and saw someplace entirely different.

Standing in the darkness, it seemed in every direction he looked there were threads leading out into the endless black. Some threads ended nearby, at small spheres of pulsing white light. Others disappeared off in the distance, like fading stars. One star seemed to glow brighter than the rest with a gold tinge to its light, though even now it was dimming. As he looked across the dark space, he saw some of the spheres drawing sluggishly toward the gold one. Sudden understanding of the situation drove Harry to race toward the globe. It felt as if he flew through the darkness, over motionless spheres and others creeping closer. Harry imagined he was on his broomstick flying over a dark Quidditch pitch, racing for the golden snitch. Several of the spheres were drawing closer to the gold, but they were moving much, much slower than Harry. When at last he drew near, he could feel a soothing warmth in the light. Before it could grow too small, Harry took a deep breath, and threw himself into the light. As he entered he was aware of something else leaving, and then all he saw was light.

When the light cleared, yet another scene lay before him. The edges of everything were blurred, and moved in strange, jerky motions. At first Harry thought he was himself again, standing on the battle field. But then he realized he was staring at himself standing next to his father, as if he'd been dropped in a Pensieve memory. Voldemort was closer in this vision, a thick, rotting book opened in his hands. His high, sibilant voice was chanting, and the foreign words could be heard even over the din of battle.

Harry watched as the Serpent's Children began to congregate, and the Light Wizards drew back from them as if they were deadly to look upon. Harry watched as his own body began to move toward Voldemort, brushing off his father's attempts to hold him as if the man were as weak as a child. The man seemed stricken as he was thrown to the ground, face pale in shock and desperation. Harry's heart hurt for his father, even though he knew that this, whatever it was, wasn't real.

The Children continued to move, stopping in a silent mass before the Dark Lord who chanted even faster, his voice rising and falling in hypnotic rhythm. The words seemed to change after a moment, growing more frantic and loud. Harry watched, horrified, as the Serpent's Children pushed together, and suddenly seemed to change. A swirling cloud of black magic curled up from the ground at their feet, twisting like smoke around their bodies until they were nearly indistinct. When the air cleared, the thing that was left was more awful than any basilisk could have dreamed of being. It was a snake far larger than any creature Harry had ever fought with fangs as long as a man was tall and eyes like narrow, fiery windows. The creature slowly raised itself from the ground, poising high above them all as if considering who to devour first. It was Voldemort who broke the silence. He closed the book in his hands with a loud snap, and, a proud smile on his face, issued one command.

"Kill."

Faster than any beast that size should have moved, it flashed among Voldemort's enemies like lightning. The venom it spat into the crowds set cloaks and flesh aflame, leaving great smoking pits in the earth. It's ruddy scales seemed just as immune to spells as the Serpent's Children had been, and it devoured its attackers with relish.

Harry turned his face away, unable to stomach the image any longer. He didn't want to see who else would die. He didn't want to see the snake with scales that looked eerily like screaming faces. He knew his father was still out there, and his eyes unconsciously sought him out. It didn't take long to find him. The man was on his knees, staring blindly toward where the snake had first appeared. He looked broken, as if someone had ripped out everything inside and shattered what was left. Harry cringed, and found his eyes focused once again on the creature and snakelike man behind it. A voice suddenly cut through the din of screams and battle, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

It was a neutral voice, without obvious gender or inflection."This is what we are. This is our purpose. Our minds and bodies are one to command."

Harry shuddered as its eyes locked with his.

Harry blinked, and it seemed as if the vision simply dissolved, leaving him staring at a battlefield mercifully free of snake monsters.

Yet something was different. His awareness seemed to somehow stretch beyond himself, and he understood at once that it was the Serpent's Children. The knowledge of what they were capable of was suddenly a part of him, as if he'd known it all along. It was a heady feeling, and the power of it called to him. It felt as if he was supposed to command his army, to make them grovel and bow to his slightest whim. All it would take was a word; not one of them could deny him. His mind was their mind.

Abruptly, he recognized the feeling. It was as if he was in third year again, with his wand aimed at the quivering Peter Pettigrew. He'd ached then to exercise the power at his fingertips, just as he did now. Only now, he knew what he had to do.

"Stop," he said, and though it was barely whispered, every Serpent's Child on the field grew utterly still.

"Harry!" Suddenly hands were on his shoulders, clutching almost painfully tight. His father was staring at him with wide, panicked eyes.

"Dad, I'm okay. I'm okay," Harry assured him. The man looked him up and down, no doubt searching for any trace of pain or injury. Snape bowed his head with relief, though his possessive grip didn't loosen a fraction. His expression abruptly grew hard.

"You and I are going to have a very long talk about your foolhardy stunts when this is all over," he said. "Now, did you just do what I think you did?"

"We don't need to worry about the Serpent's Children anymore."

"Hey, what's going on over here? Dumbledore was going to cast the spell to switch the Death Eater's robes when they just stopped! Hey! Aren't you supposed to stay a wolf?" Sirius asked, practically sliding to a stop beside them.

Harry stared at his godfather, trying to make out everything the excitable man had said.

"Easy, Black. Zach apparently has control of them now," Severus said.

"What?! Hey, then you can turn them back on the Death Eaters! They won't stand a chance if the Serpent's Children are on our side."

"They aren't on our side, Sirius," Harry said, his voice oddly low.

"What do you mean?"

"They aren't on _anybody's_ side. It wasn't their choice to be here. Voldemort took away any choice they had when he summoned them. I won't take that from them too."

"But…Zach, think of what they could do! We could end this battle in minutes!" Sirius said anxiously, practically jumping up and down.

"Black…" Severus began, but Harry cut him off.

"Sirius, no." Though it was said quietly, Sirius closed his mouth with a snap and nodded.

Harry turned to look at the battle, his eyes focusing on the silent, still figures amidst the chaos. A few light witches and wizards were taking the opportunity to attack the Children, but most were simply pushing the advantage against the Death Eaters. Narrowing his eyes, Harry sought out the thread of magic that connected them all. He gave it a gentle tug and willed every last one to leave the battlefield. As one, the Children began to move, silently herding past the flashing of curses and even those few wizards who had resorted to physical combat. Before ending the connection, he left them with the command to head to the safety of the castle.

"Um…in case anyone's forgotten, there is a battle going on, and you've just pissed off the Dark Lord," Draco interrupted, looking suddenly nervous.

Almost as if on cue, Voldemort's unearthly scream of rage echoed across the battlefield. Witches and wizards on both sides of the fight paused to look. The Dark Lord had never appeared so furious. The snake-like man looked as if the loss of his Serpent's Children had been the final straw, and he'd gone mad with fury over the loss.

"SNAPE!" the Dark Lord screamed, and Harry was positive that the enraged wizard's eyes locked with his own even across the battlefield. Suddenly, Voldemort disappeared from behind the dwindling lines of Death Eaters.

Harry was shocked. Surely the Dark Lord wouldn't be fleeing already? But Harry had his answer a moment later, when a loud 'pop' echoed from directly behind them. Whirling at the noise, Snape pulled Harry to his chest as they leapt to their feet.

"So…just as devious as your father. I knew I should have killed you the instant I set eyes on you. However, I won't be making the same mistake twice!" Voldemort said, his eyes smoldering with fury.

"What, aiming for three?" Sirius barked, placing himself boldly between the Dark Lord and his targets. He twirled his wand almost carelessly between his fingertips, though his shoulders and face were set with an uncharacteristic determination.

"Ah, Sirius Black, the disgrace to the Black family name. Step aside. I'm sure your sister is eager to see you," The Dark Lord mocked, his own wand held delicately, as if he were about to conduct a magnificent symphony.

"'Fraid not. You see, I've got a soft spot for Snape and his kid here."

"Very well then. _Crucio_!" Voldemort hissed, body snapping into sudden motion like a snake striking at its prey.

Sirius, however, hadn't been inducted into the Order of the Phoenix for nothing. He dodged the spell and retaliated with a spell of his own, leaping from side to side as if he were fencing.

"Zach, give me your wand, and I will Apparate you to safety," Severus said quietly, discreetly leading Harry further away from the dueling wizards.

Harry looked up, startled. "No way, Dad. I know what the prophecy said. I have to be here to help defeat him!"

"You're injured, and how do you know the prophecy meant you would defeat him today?" Severus countered.

"I just do, okay? I can't le—" a sudden pop startled them all, and Sirius howled as the Dark Lord's Cruciatus struck him head on, spinning him through to air to lay thrashing in the grass.

A masked Death eater had appeared behind the dark lord, who was grinning in sick joy as he tortured his enemy.

"Sirius!" Harry yelled, jerking in Severus grasp, but he restrained himself from running to the fallen wizard only because Remus was already on his way.

Death eaters who were not engaged in duels of their own had decided to follow Voldemort's lead and began appearing behind the Dark Lord. The light wizards were quick to follow, but the damage had already been done.

"Zachary!" Severus urged, indicating the wand in the young wizard's hand.

"No, Dad, I…_Protego_!" Harry's wand whipped up and a silvery shield blocked Voldemort's spell, sending it sizzling off into the grass. Voldemort's cruel laughter filled the silence, the Death eaters moving to engage the light wizards who had followed them. Even now, Remus was defending a recovering Sirius from Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Come now, Zachary. I'm your master after all; surely you won't begrudge me a little duel?" the Dark Lord purred, twirling his wand in a mocking imitation of Sirius' earlier trick.

"You are not and will never be my master, Voldemort. You created something you could not control. Did it hurt to see the Serpent's Children taken from you?" Harry returned, his own wand clutched firmly in his left hand. His right arm was held uselessly to his chest, throbbing dully. He had not had time to have it mended since his encounter with the elder Malfoy.

"Crucio!" Voldemort screamed, eyes wide and teeth bared with fury. Harry sidestepped deftly, dimly aware of his father moving not far behind him.

Severus, meanwhile, was struggling desperately to formulate a plan. He had no wand, and without it he had no way of defending Harry without getting in his way. The few wandless spells he knew were useless in this situation. And so Severus lingered, waiting to leap to his son's aid when the opportunity arose. The boy was an excellent dueler, although he was no where near the Dark Lord's level. And now, having to cast left handed….

A sudden sound to his left made Severus realize with a feral smile that there was indeed something he could do. In a flash he shifted into his lion form, leaping through the air at a Death eater trying to sneak up on his son. With no regrets, his jaws clamped shut on the Death eater's throat, crushing the windpipe like an overripe fruit. No sooner had the body dropped to the ground than he was off again, prowling behind his son for another victim. He took down a second Death Eater closing in on Remus, and a third who had Kingsley Shacklebolt under the Cruciatus. All the while his ears were perked, focused solely on the sound of his son's duel.

Severus was licking the blood from his lips when two words caused his head to snap up.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Voldemort hissed.

Almost simultaneously, Harry yelled, "_Expecto Patronum_!" The two spells collided in midair, locking together like a laser beam. The Patronus spell did not behave normally as it met the acid green of the killing curse. Rather than forming a stag, it maintained a steady, bluish-white beam.

"Potter! So this is where you hid!" Voldemort hissed, at once recognizing the brother to his own wand.

"I was never a Potter! And I won't let you take my family again!" Harry swore. His left arm was shaking madly. Sweat was beading on his brow, and blood had begun to ooze from the thin cut on his throat again. The beam of the green spell had begun to overtake the blue, pushing it ever closer to Harry's wand.

Not knowing if his plan would work, Severus leapt to his son's side, sliding quickly back into human form again. He wrapped one arm around Harry's shoulder's, adding his grip to his son's on the wand.

"Expecto_ Patronum_!" he commanded, willing his magic to his son and through the wand.

The effect was immediate. The blue beam pulsed, thrusting the green back with ease. Voldemort was shrieking, shouting incoherently as he struggled to control his own spell. The beams edged closer to his wand, until finally they met the tip, and exploded in bright white light. Two huge white shapes erupted from the wand, Patroni brighter than any Severus had seen before. One was a huge roaring lion, while the other was a sleek wolf with head thrown back in a howl. The two circled the dark lord, before diving at him like hawks on a field mouse. They disappeared inside Voldemort, and his screams shook the very foundations of the school. His body was aglow as it twisted and thrashed, his skeletal hands clawing at his own skin. The light grew brighter, and for the second time an explosion rocked the grounds. White sparks flew into the air like a supernova, leaving nothing but a smoldering crater in the grass.

As the sparks cleared, the two Patroni bounded from the crater. The wolf leapt deftly into Harry's wand, while the lion leapt directly into Severus himself.

A bright wink of light brought Severus' attention back to the crater, where the remains of Voldemort's wand lay in a charred pile. A wisp of bluish light escaped the wand, and suddenly a crowd of glowing blue figures were standing in the grass, smiling.

"Mom?" Harry said quietly, and Severus' grasp tightened on the boy in shock. In the front of the crowd, waving with a proud smile on her face, was Lily Evans. James Potter stood a little way back, smiling just as widely.

"Lily…" Severus whispered, his heart aching all over again. Her proud eyes looked over her son, and then moved to Severus himself. Their eyes met, and Severus knew all at once the words she did not speak.

Pride. Approval. Love. _Forgiveness_.

He felt his chest tighten at the flood of emotion, eyes prickling with the strange sensation of tears. All too soon the figures began to fade. Eventually, they disappeared into the morning light.

"Wait!" Harry called, moving to run into the field. But the ghostly images had gone, and he sagged against his father's restraining hand.

Suddenly, Severus hissed, grasping his left arm. As quickly as it had come, the white-hot pain began to fade. Aware of his son's worried gaze, he frantically rolled up his left sleeve, almost afraid that what he was hoping for wouldn't be true. But there, where for decades Voldemort's black mark had marred his flesh, only a faint, fading bruise remained.

"It's over," he choked out, casting his own shocked gaze up to meet his son's.

Harry stared, his shocked expression slowly fading to one of absolute joy.

"It's over! We're free!" Harry exclaimed and captured his father in a desperate, one-armed hug. Neither one had the words to truly express their feelings. A war that neither had truly believed would end had been won. And now, they were at last free to live their lives.

Free.

-------------End 47-------------

End notes: Only the Epilogue remains, and will be uploaded once I finish cleaning it up.

Regarding the Patroni/Animagus forms:

The Lion: The lion almost universally represents bravery and loyalty, but I also picked it for Severus because of its power, grace, and, and protectiveness. Severus always reminded me of a large, predatory cat lying in wait. Like a lion, I also see him as very, very powerful, though he doesn't often show it. Also, the mane of unkempt hair and perpetual snarl didn't hurt. *smirk*

The Wolf: Wolves are incredibly social creatures. The 'lone wolf' idea is largely a myth...they rarely survive long without the support of a pack. Wolves are very smart, incredibly loyal animals once their trust is earned. They also work best as a group. I associate Harry with a Wolf because of how important family and 'pack' are to him, because of his resilience despite all odds, and because he's still young and playful at heart.

The lynx: Smart, lithe, stronger than they look. 'nuff said.

The Fox: Crafty, good at solving puzzles, orange hair...yeah, I know...cliche!

The Horse: Proud and powerful

I hope everyone enjoys Half-Blood Prince on Tuesday! See ya!


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